A Journey Long Before Us Lies
by Nik216
Summary: "She was to be a wife to a husband who knew nothing about her, for the happiness of the poor war-wounded kingdom she barely understood." A story that follows the tale of Thranduil, King of the Woodland Realm and the Queen who ruled by his side. From fragile, unsure beginnings in a kingdom scarred by war, a great love is forged, and when it is lost, a king is forever changed.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Well hello! To those who follow me, this will seem a little different from what I have been writing on this site so far, but as you know well, the muse does what she wants and I merely to what she tells me to do. So I do hope you will follow me into this latest endeavor.**

**And hello to anyone who is reading this that has not read anything by me before. I am in short, a writer obsessed with characters, motivations, emotions, and everything from romance to angst- I live to create my own spin on worlds that I love. I hope you stick with me, I promise to make you smile, break your heart, and hopefully give you something satisfying before we all leave!**

**Now as for the masterful world of Tolkien...I have been an avid fan since I first read the Hobbit at nine. My father gave it to me along with his well worn 70's era paperbacks of The Simarillion and the LOTR trilogy. It has always, always been a world of wonder for me, and love or hate Peter Jackson's adaptations of the tales- he has brought Middle Earth out of my head and onto the screen. **

**That being said, I know my cannon, I can talk for hours and hours about it. (And I generally do after a few glasses of wine) But there were things that Tolkien has left out that are a fan fiction writer's dream, and ones that I think Peter Jackson brought up and handed to us on a silver platter. (Be they known cannon compliant or just added in for entertainment value.)**

**Notably, and if you have watched The Hobbit trilogy, and The Battle of the Five Armies specifically, the only thing I had at the end of it all was, "For the love of God I can't believe it's all over," and rambling, obsessive thoughts about Thranduil (because Lee Pace owned every single scene he was in) and the sub-plot about his lost queen.**

**So my now quiet muse suddenly began to throw ideas out left and right...and this is what came out. I am not sure how long it will take me to write it, as I have a feeling it will be a long tale to tell...but I will tell it, I have to!**

**Without further ado...I ask that you please read and review! (Any questions feel free to PM me, I enjoy nothing more than discussing plot!) **

**And thank you to my girl Mals for her eyes in the early going of this!**

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><p>The forest had always given her peace. The oneness and wholeness with the great spirits of the plants and animals around her was common to all Silvan elves, and Mirwen was no different- but tonight, being among the trees- it was giving her little comfort.<p>

She walked barefoot through the glade; taking in a deep breath and looking up to see the points of twinkling starlight as it filtered through the canopy. Her mind and thoughts that were normally always calm focused and logical was a complete jumble. Though her current state of unease wasn't a mystery to her despite the unfamiliar confusion in her head- it was as simple as the realization that she was to be united in a bonding ceremony soon, and she was afraid of it.

While many young elleth have foolish fantasies about finding a mate and uniting with them for all time- she had never thought about it once. She had always been a child of the forest, free and unfettered. Her joy had always come among the trees, her bow in hand...but that was all changing. For the first time in her relatively young 2300 years she was trading everything that she knew for a life she didn't understand.

Mirwen looked down at her feet in the soft loam on the forest floor, and the train of the simple white dress that she was wearing. The hem had been stained by the moist dirt she had walked on, was this the look of a bonded mate? Could she, an elleth with calluses on her palms from daggers and her bow instead of the delicate hands that handled calligraphy quills and embroidery needles, be what a wife was to be to her husband?

Of course her anxiety and unrest threatened to overwhelm her when the true realization of her current arrangement came to the light. It was more than just that of a common pair of elves joining. In one week's time she was to become the wife of the young king of the Greenwood. She wouldn't just be expected to be a wife to her husband, she would have to submit as a queen to be ruled by her king and bear him an heir to his throne.

Her union would be one of obligation and duty. To be bound to another for all time, even unto the ends of the world...a wife for an eternity to a husband she didn't know. It was something that as an elf went against everything that they held true. Mirwen let out a tired sigh as she slowed her steps, her fingers reaching out to stroke the smooth bark of a white birch tree.

She didn't know love. Despite the fact that she had the unyielding devotion of her mother and her father, she didn't know what it was to feel love for a mate. It was something that she was supposed to have known by now. This was supposed to be a happy time for her, not one of turmoil and confusion.

But despite her own selfish feelings, there was something bigger and more important than marriage that surrounded her impending ceremony. Her fellow people needed this. Now was a time of healing after too long a shadow had fallen.

The elves of the Greenwood had fought bravely against the dark enemy, with the great King Oropher leading them proudly from their simple forest to stand alongside the high elves of the west, heeding the call of men and elves to join in a last alliance to save them all from darkness.

She remembered that march as if it was days ago instead of nearly one hundred years. She stood beside her mother and the other wives and elflings, watching as her father Aradan came past them in his simple armor and helm with his head held high, marching in flawless step with the rest of the company.

It was also the first time she had seen _him_ with her own two eyes.

Thranduil Oropherion.

He rode beside his father, both of them in shining silver armor that put even the light of the stars to shame. The crown prince of the Woodland Realm rode tall on a massive and majestic elk, his long blonde hair glinting in the sun and his proud face, inherited from his father and a long line of Sindarin elves, was set sternly and the most beautiful thing that she had ever beheld. He was as if out of a dream, every bit the regal embodiment of elvish royalty that had reigned so long in the lost Western kingdoms.

But the splendor and the beauty that marched from the Greenwood that day would forever be changed.

When at long last the army returned, nearly seven years since they had departed, it was a mere shadow of what had left. Nearly two out of three had been lost to the evil, and so many that walked back into the forest carried deep wounds poisoned with such darkness that they would be unable to find peace again without sailing to the Undying Lands.

Mirwen remembered standing with her grief stricken mother, holding her close as their eyes searched the battle hardened soldiers, looking desperately at each of their haunted faces until she finally saw her father. He was riding beside the prince, whose silver armor was stained black with the blood of orcs, the foul liquid marring his long hair and his smooth skin. Her father had his sword arm wrapped in a thick bandage and bound to his chest; his every movement on the weary horse that carried him was heavy with pain.

But there was no king.

The entire kingdom of grieving subjects gathered among the trees to hear her father, a mere soldier, say that the king had fallen- and then all joined him as he knelt to pay homage to the new king of the Greenwood. Singing laments for Oropher in the same breath as the praises they bestowed upon his only son and heir.

A warm wind rustled from beneath the trees, taking a strand of her dark brown knee-length hair and whipping it up to caress her face as she came out of the memory. It was the death of King Oropher that had her betrothed. Her father, who before the battle had been no more than a simple Silvan soldier, had proven himself in war by saving the life of Thranduil as he charged forward to get to his stricken father.

Upon the king's ascension he had lifted her father to the title of General of the Armies of the Woodland Realm, and with that her family had been brought from her common and free life among the other elves to one in the palace itself behind imposing walls and splendor. Mirwen should have known that her parents had more reason to take them there aside from simply elevating their status.

With the kingdom in tatters and the population dwindling and king who seemed to stay behind the walls of his study- her father came to her one day with a declaration. To unite the king to his Silvan people and to further the alliances made by Oropher when he first came to the Greenwood from Doriath so long ago, Thranduil meant to take a Silvan Queen.

She would be that queen.

Her nimble hands curled into fists of rage when she thought about the first time she had stood face to face with her future husband. He stood silent before her looking more beautiful than she remembered from that long ago day, his presence evoking a sense of being so grand and illustrious that he seemed to tower over her despite being no more than a head taller. His elegant crown was woven with the lush green leaves of the impending summer, and she found for the first time in her life that she was unable to stop her heart from racing.

But whatever moment they may have had died very quickly when she finally raised her eyes to meet his. He had looked at her with his glacial blue eyes, scanning her from head to toe as if he was appraising a horse for its breed stock, before he abruptly took her right hand and slid a ring onto her index finger. He announced in a cold, detached voice that, "We will marry one year hence on the first day of the summer season," before turning swiftly and walking off, his lavish and elegant silver robes billowing behind him.

She'd been left speechless and confused. Had she done something to wrong him? Was having her as his betrothed something that he hadn't chosen for himself? Was he as confused about it as she was?

Her mother had been quick to tell her that her own father had behaved very similarly at first when they had begun courting one another, and that the king was a proud ellon and most of all that love was something that needed time to blossom. She told her to be patient and to wait, and all would be as it should.

But now, nearly a year later, despite her patience and her efforts, nothing had changed. Thranduil seemed to avoid her at any cost, spending his days in his private rooms with her father and members of his royal council, embroiled in the politics of the realm, and at dinner, he didn't even look in her direction.

He hadn't so much as spoken her name.

Mirwen stared down at the golden betrothal ring on her finger, the delicate design made to look like a web of intricate tree branches. She would soon replace the simple band with her formal wedding ring. She was to be a wife to a husband who knew nothing about her, for the happiness of a poor war-wounded kingdom she barely understood...by Eru, she _was_ afraid.

"My lady?"

A smooth voice instantly made her turn her head to see one of the palace border guards walking through the glade to where she was standing.

"My lady, you cannot wander beyond the walls of the palace without permission from the king, it is forbidden."

Her bright hazel eyes narrowed sharply at the remand and the severity of the statement, "Are we not free in the Greenwood? I was not aware that I was a prisoner."

The guard's face blanched in surprise, and suddenly Mirwen realized the power of her words. If she was going to be the queen, then this guard was going to respect her. She turned from against the tree, squaring up her shoulders.

"I will wander where I wish in the forest..."

"Will you now?"

The deep voice of her father suddenly came from directly behind her and she balked for a moment, surprised that she hadn't heard him approach, turning slowly to meet him and instantly bowing her head in a sign of reverence as she raised her hand to her chest, touching her heart.

"_Mae g'ovannen, Adar._"

Her father mirrored the gesture before lifting his head and staring at her with a serious look on his face, dismissing the palace guard with little more than a simple nod of his head. "You do not belong in the forest alone, Mirwen. It is no longer acceptable for you to wander without guard."

She could feel her cheeks flush and she took a deep breath. Her betrothed may never look at her, but she knew that she would always have the heart of at least one ellon in the Greenwood. She was her father's most cherished thing, and it was something that she tended to use a time or two in her life to avoid situations such as this.

"I am sorry _adar, _I was restless after so rich a meal at dinner this evening, and I thought a walk would do me good."

Aradan's face changed at her reply, he raised his brow and shook his head, laughing softly before he spoke in his deep, rich voice. "So, it was my daughter's _sensitive_ stomach that has her leaving the safe halls of the palace to wander alone in the forest unprotected?"

Mirwen couldn't hide the giggle at her father's questioning tone. Ever since she had been an elfling she had routinely made a habit of consuming more than her fair share at mealtimes. She had actually been a round, portly little thing, that had barely fit into her cradle clothes. Thankfully a growth spurt had stretched her out as she hit her mid-years, and her father liked to joke that it was why she stood so tall today.

Her excuse was definitely not holding water, so she decided to switch tactic, reaching up into the billowing sleeve of her gown to pull out the concealed silver dagger that had been strapped to her arm, "I was not unprotected. I am never unprotected; I was trained to defend myself by the General of the Woodland Army himself you know."

Aradan laughed loudly, his shoulders starting to move at her cheeky reply, his long chestnut colored hair bouncing with the movement. He sighed and reached out with his left hand to touch her cheek affectionately, cupping her face and lifting her chin up to meet his stare as his tone grew serious.

"My daughter, the time for this has past. You are no longer my shining little jewel flitting through the trees, you have grown and now you have the responsibility to your station." He paused for a moment and his voice softened, "He will be unhappy that you have left the walls without his permission."

Mirwen felt her entire body freeze, and an unfamiliar chill raced along her skin. He was unhappy with her? A small spark of anger settled in her gut and she spoke without thinking or censoring her words. "I am surprised he could feel unhappiness towards me; that would follow that My Lord felt anything for me at all."

He frowned at her words, "You speak harshly of your betrothed, of our king?"

She stepped away from her father's comforting touch, feeling the temper that she had inherited from him start to consume her thoughts. "I speak the truth. He has not once; in nearly a year's time, spoken one word to me in conversation. What am I supposed to feel, _adar_? What am I supposed to feel for him when he has not even said my name and I am to be bound to him? Please tell me, because I do not know; why did he choose me if he is going to treat me like this?"

Her father sighed softly inclining his head to look up at the same stars that she had earlier, as if looking for his own peace before he replied. "My Lord Thraduil is…he is a good ellon, and a good king, you do wrong to mock him and speak this way." He paused for a moment and closed his eyes, Mirwen watched his throat bob as if filled with pain and when he spoke again his voice was strained, "He wears a heavy crown my daughter."

Tears instantly filled her eyes at her father's distress and she reached out to take his strong hand in hers, "Forgive me, I did not know what I was saying. I have been selfish, I did not mean it!"

The feeling of the sword hardened hand clasping hers calmed her once again, "You are not selfish my shining jewel, you speak freely as I have always taught you to be. But now I would ask that just perhaps, you allow your age to temper that spirit."

"Yes, _adar_," She said softly.

He smiled gently and nodded, "Now, we should make our way back to the palace. I do believe that after such a long walk, you and I are more than ready for some tea and a nice honey cake. Of course your beloved _naneth _will be less than thrilled with the state of your dress."

Mirwen looked down at her muddy hem, knowing that her mother would be more than a little upset with her dirty feet and dress, "You think she would have gotten used to it by now."

Her father laughed again as she took his arm, walking back towards the palace gates, "There are some things my daughter that will never change no matter how many summers pass."

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><p>The pair made their way back through the forest to the palace of the elf king without saying a word to each other. It was just a sense of comfort and companionship between a father and his only cherished offspring. The massive gates loomed ahead, and as they crossed the elegant bridge to the imposing and secure doors, Mirwen could already feel her heart racing again, as if these same doors that protected the realm were going to be ones that were the end of her freedom.<p>

She shook her head, trying to remember her father's words, it was time to leave her carefree youth behind her. She was no longer an elfling, it was time that she grew into an elleth and lived the life that her father had risked his riding off to war to protect. Her father's hand patted hers, as if he could read her thoughts, and it was enough for her to shift her body. Her shoulders fell back and her head came up high, her steps slowed from a shuffling cadence to long, slow strides. The station of helmed guards acknowledged them both instantly, snapping to attention and allowing the general and the future queen to pass.

As the doors shut behind them Mirwen looked up to see the tall, lithe form of Gwythion one of the lesser council members walking towards them, his face drawn into a grimace as he approached. He swiftly greeted them both with a small bow of his head, "Forgive me my lady, and my general, but the king is requesting the presence of his betrothed immediately."

Mirwen froze, her body going rigid as she looked at her father with wide eyes, "I must...I am not in a state to be presented to the king..."

"My lord gave his command that you would come to him as soon as you returned," Gwythion answered earnestly. "It has been hours since you left."

She felt a feeling of nervousness blossom in her stomach, still staring at her father, and watching as his strong features hardened for a small moment before he gently took her arm that was entwined with his, releasing it. He cleared his throat and Mirwen could feel her hands tremble when he spoke, "Your king and your betrothed calls for you my daughter, you must go now."

There was no way for her to avoid this. How fast she had lost the confidence and conviction that she had taken from the trees and her walk through the forest. She nodded simply raising her hand to her chest in a half-hearted gesture to her father before turning to the tall counselor and taking a deep breath.

"I will return to my rooms after our meeting, _adar_, until then."

"Until then." He answered as he turned gracefully and walked down the nearest hall to the western wing of the palace leaving her completely alone.

"Follow me, my lady," Gwythion said as he turned to lead her off toward the king's study.

Mirwen walked with her head high as she followed the elegant councilor, knowing that it might have taken a year's time, but she was finally sure that the king was aware of her now.

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><p><strong>AN: One final note, I plan on keeping the elvish language used minimally, because stylistically I am not a fan of having to translate as I read, so I don't write that way. But, that being said, there are a few very common ones that I will put in, and anything that isn't clear I will translate as I have below.<strong>

**I also promise much less notes from now on : ) **

**Terms used:**

_Eru- "God"_

_Adar/ Ada- Father/ Daddy_

_Naneth/Nana- Mother/ Mommy_

_Mae g'ovannen- "Well met" traditional elvish greeting_

_Elleth- Female elf Sing._

_Ellon- Male elf Sing._


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: I am happy to say that I have the next chapter up and ready to go! Thank you to the attention that this story has received, and please continue it! Your feedback and kind words are what help move things along. Any questions please feel free to reach out to me! **

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><p>The last vestiges of the warming late spring sun finally slipped behind the mountains, leaving the King of the Woodland Realm to stand in the serenity of early dusk as starlight began to fill the sky. Thranduil was silent as his keen eyes mapped the trees of the forest that he had so long loved. All seemed quiet, and it was a tentative peace that he wanted to accept…one that he would have accepted in his youth…but now, long years later, he knew better.<p>

Quiet, he now knew was often the guise that the enemy used for ambush, and those who were foolish enough to let their guard down would be the first to suffer. He breathed deep and stared down at the goblet of rich plum colored Dorwinion wine in his hand. He swirled the glass absently and observed the small amount that he had left before lifting it to his lips to take it all back in a healthy swallow savoring the sweet, heady vintage.

But despite his reservations on the seeming lull of activity, the quiet did serve to allow him a few moments of much needed tranquility, and that he would take without question.

Thranduil crossed the polished stone floor of his open study to the massive oak desk that ran the length of the room and was literally covered in stacks of parchment. Not a single inch of the rich, elegant surface was left open, and the sight alone was enough to make him take a detour to grab the crystal decanter of wine and give his glass a generous refill.

He finally sat himself down a few minutes later and stared at the stack of correspondences that had been placed on his desk since the dinner adjournment. Reports from patrols in the forest and along the borders, and request after request from towns of men along the Celduin River, asking for increased trade and aide- it was never-ending.

There was reason for the requests as of late. After the defeat of the Nameless Enemy the bands of orcs that had waged war on the alliance of men and elves spilled out of the accursed land of Mordor and fled. They were still marauding, even now, seeking out dark places to spread their filth and malice, attacking small villages here and there as they moved west to the Misty Mountains and north to the wastes beyond the grey mountains.

But he refused to offer aide. He couldn't. His army had been left in tatters after the Battle of Dagorlad, and even though it's diminished strength was still more than enough to keep his lands protected, he would not risk further weakening it by sending soldiers out of the forest borders. He had marched them to war once and seen the horrors that came of it; he would not do it again. No, he was content to keep them safe. Now was a time to rebuild, to celebrate life and hold close watched eyes on the borders- the people of the Greenwood would endure.

A sudden sharp twinge ached at his temple and he reached up to gently slide off the delicate crown that was perched on his head, feeling an unmitigated sense of relief as he rested the intricate weave of twigs and green leaves on the table. It was funny for such a light little thing just how heavy it weighed on his mind. Thranduil smiled softly as he touched the shiny surface of one of the beech leaves, remembering how he'd spent long hours as a elfling gathering the same leaves to make a simple crown for his father long before he journeyed to the Woodland Realm and became a king.

As it always did, those thoughts brought with them the feelings of joy and memory mingled with sorrow. Even now he did not allow himself time to dwell on thoughts of his father, after nearly a century the grief was still too near to him. It was difficult enough to hold his council everyday with members who looked to him to give the same sage wisdom that had come to his king so effortlessly. He was not his father, and as time passed, he grew more and more concerned that he was unable to be the king that the Greenwood needed.

He was a soldier, one who had grown under the guidance of the Sindarin warriors in Doriath, and later, trained by his father himself. He understood warfare, and he understood the absolute leadership of a general- it was the playing of politics that he couldn't quite grasp the use of. He certainly did not have the patience for endless talking… oh and how his council enjoyed their talks.

Another sip of wine was needed as the day's conversation with the group came back to him. It was Hannor, the eldest member of the council that had brought up the usual discussion not moments after they sat down. He reminded him for the first time this day, and probably the ten thousandth time in the past however many years, that with the kingdom still fragile and rebuilding that it was imperative for him to marry and secure an heir.

Thranduil tapped his fingers against the smooth table in irritation, if the meddling ellon hadn't been one of his father's closest friends for near an age he would have gladly given him a light push out of the tall window beside them. But no matter his frustration at the unanimous mumblings of the council- they had a point. Without having an heir in these unsure times, it left his people with a sense of trepidation. It was his duty to protect them.

It was this simple fact that made him agree to the situation at all. Under normal circumstances he would have continued to survey the elleth in the lands, like he had been before the war, and when his father had inevitably gotten irritated with his lack of a choice, he would have made one. It should have been a carefully considered decision; after all he _was_ going to be bonded to his queen for the rest of eternity.

But it would seem that like everything about his ascension to the throne, it was going to be difficult to bear. Instead of making a natural choice, he was forced to take a more prosaic approach to the entire thing and merely pick of the population an elleth of breeding age. He must have been visibly vexed, because it was his oft quiet newly appointed general Aradan who had spoken with him after the initial meeting, asking on his well-being.

He felt a kinship with the soldier that he owed his life to, and it was one of the few times he'd candidly answered a question of that sort. But Aradan deserved his time, he'd saved him from death at the hands of an orc, and even now Thranduil couldn't remember much about the event, though he knew he owed his loyalty. It was the torture of seeing his father's body, still hewn as he lay dying that broke him…he remembered running to his king…and the feeling of something warm on his face…

It wasn't until Aradan yelled his name and forcefully pulled him to safety that he realized what was happening. He was crying. Elves could go a lifetime and never once shed a tear, pain and death and fear were emotions foreign to them. They were ones that were felt by men and other mortal creatures. Thranduil closed his eyes as a feeling of shame washed over him, he remembered holding on to the older ellon's armor, sobbing into his hair uncontrollably as grief started to consume him.

He didn't know how he managed to pull himself out of it, and if it hadn't have been for Aradan and his constant companionship in the long, dark years of war that followed- he knew he would have been lost.

The logic of the situation dictated that he owed the man that had saved his kingdom, and as a result he deserved the consideration of his only daughter to be betrothed as queen.

So, to secure his father's kingdom and make his people secure, he would bind himself to an elleth that he'd never met. He'd forsake the noble Sindarin lineage that he owed his blood to and he would marry into the Silvan people that his father had loved.

Thranduil smiled to himself despite the situation as he sipped at his wine. He'd been more than a little surprised the first time he laid eyes on his betrothed. It was certainly true that she had the coloring of the Silvan people, her rich brown hair and her wide hazel eyes, the larger, more pronounced point to her ears all spoke in testament. It was true that she was of a simple family, but she was unmistakably elegant. He couldn't stop staring at her, wondering how he had never noticed a creature so lovely before in his own land.

He'd gifted the same ring that his father had given his mother at their betrothal. But once he'd given her the golden band, he found himself at a loss for words. She'd looked at him with her lovely eyes, and he didn't understand the way that his body reacted. He'd been unable to say anything at all…and when he finally managed to string a sentence together it was little more than a straight-forward declaration that they would be married a year from that date before he ran away.

It was a strange feeling that had only grown with time. Over the past year, when he wasn't trapped in his study with his council dealing with the never-ending barrage of reports and negotiations, he had taken up a hobby of watching her. It was easy once he had them moved from the main living area of the rest of the elves and into the far western wing of the palace, and he certainly enjoyed the change in scenery in his halls. As of late he discovered that his favorite time to watch her was at the evening meal.

She was both reserved and polite as she ate delicate mouthfuls, although she certainly did not limit herself to meager rations, instead she seemed to find true enjoyment in savoring everything that was handcrafted for the table. But most of all he found her attentiveness to those around her to be very pleasing. When she was engaged in conversation with anyone at the table, and even those who served her, she gave her complete consideration to them. He'd listened to her soft voice as she asked questions to the same people day in and day out, remembering everything that they had previously told her, giving her compliments to the preparers of the feast, and eliciting a smile from each one every time. It was a quality he envied in her and something that would be quite a strength when she became his queen.

"Mirwen," he spoke her name out loud in a soft mumble as he sat back in his chair, swirling the wine in his goblet; testing her name on his tongue as he had done so often in the past year. He frowned when he realized that he'd never spoken to her face to face, his constantly overwhelming schedule, and the ridiculous feeling in his stomach every time he looked at her had stopped him. A chiding voice in his head reminded him that he was little over a week away from sharing his bed and an eternity with her, so it might be a time to call her by her name.

It was this same strange compulsion that had him suddenly stand from his desk and walk to the door of his study, opening it to see one of the sentries standing at post. He cleared his throat and the soldier immediately stood at attention.

"My Lord Thranduil."

He nodded his greeting and cleared his still unexplainably nervous voice, "I wish for you to find the Lady Mirwen, I would have an audience with her this evening."

The guard nodded and left his post in sure strides towards her family's quarters, leaving the king standing at the door to his study with his head still racing.

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><p>The feeling of whatever foolish notion had gripped him was quickly replaced by annoyance when the time continued to pass long after what it should have taken the guard to collect her and bring her to him. By the Valar, even with whatever time it took for an elleth to pamper and make herself up it couldn't possibly take this long!<p>

The irritation was only compounded when at long last a knock on his door left him to discover the guard alone with a strange look on his face. Thranduil merely inclined a single brow in question before his question was abruptly answered.

"My Lord, Lady Mirwen is not in her rooms."

He froze in mid-pace and tried to digest the information, "And did you inquire as to her whereabouts with her parents?"

The guard nodded swiftly, "I did, Lord Thranduil, General Aradan immediately made for the front gates of the palace and the forest. I was told to stay behind, that he would retrieve her."

Thranduil's hand closed dangerously hard on the delicate crystal goblet he still held. He felt his teeth clench in a flash of anger, how could a simple elleth just walk out of his guarded walls? Was she so ignorant of the world that she would put herself in such danger? Had she not seen what had happened to his army at the hands of the evil that roamed when unprotected? His father's law had been decreed that none wandered in the forest without the king's permission, it was _law_! Was she knowingly disobeying because she thought herself above his laws?

His eyes narrowed sharply as Gwythion, the youngest member of the council walked past his door.

"Councilor Gwythion!" He barked harshly.

The tall ellon immediately froze, deferring to his king with a bow, "My King, what serv -"

"Lady Mirwen has left my halls without my permission; Aradan has gone to retrieve her in the forest, and I want her brought to me when she returns." Thranduil interrupted him.

"My Lord -"

"_Immediately_ upon her return," He snapped with finality. "If she is not in my quarters by the mid-night I will go into the forest and retrieve her myself."

Gwythion nodded, "Yes my Lord."

Thranduil watched as he walked swiftly towards the front gate. His hand remained tight around his goblet, his rules were meant for protection of his people, to keep them safe above all else, and no one was above them. His future queen would learn that lesson tonight.

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><p>Mirwen could feel her blood rushing in her ears, the keen sense of hearing only making it to seem like more and more of a roar as she tried to keep her thoughts calm. She could feel the grit on the soles of her feet as they stepped on the smooth stone floor, and it made her even more nervous. She had to look like a wretched sight, her hair was windblown, wisps of the long cascade had been snagged out by twigs, her dress was dirty and wrinkled from where the hem had gotten damp from the forest's moist soil- and her feet were just filthy.<p>

A lump formed in her throat and she hand to clasp her hands together to keep them from shaking. This was not how a queen was supposed to look; this was not even how the daughter of the General was supposed to look. She felt like a foolish young thing that didn't deserve to have an audience with someone that looked like he did.

She sent a small prayer to the Valar, and Eru himself to give her the strength to be the kind of elleth that her father believed that she was.

After an eternity of walking, and somehow feeling like it was over in just moments, Gwythion finally stopped outside of the elegantly carved doors of the King's study; Mirwen tried to hold her head high as he turned to look at her with concern on his gentile features.

"My Lady, the King will see you now."

Mirwen nodded and tried to speak around the lump in her throat, her voice coming out far smaller than she ever would have wished, "Thank you, Gwythion."

He walked away with a small gesture of farewell and she was left staring at the wooden surface unsure of what to do. Was it protocol to knock? Once certainly shouldn't walk in on a king unannounced. Then again he had ordered her presence, so it may be redundant and poor etiquette to ask his permission to enter when he already expected her to be there.

In the end she decided on a delicate knock, barely brushing her knuckles against the surface as she opened the ornate handle just wide enough to slip her body inside. She kept her back to the door and tried to close it as silently as she could, letting her eyes survey the grandness of the unfamiliar room. It was open, with a large window letting the starlight and the rising moon filter in to give everything a silver glow.

She couldn't help but breathe deep to take in the smells of what surrounded her. There was the fragrance of beeswax candles that must be burning, and a low note of rich polish that no doubt covered the mahogany doors behind her and the other furniture in the room. Mirwen also recognized the crisp smell of pine oil, something that her father had long heated in a burner to help him relax when he was burdened, and then there was a fruity, heady scent that she instantly recognized as the Dorwinian wine the king served at dinner...but this seemed even more concentrated; a stronger vintage perhaps?

Mirwen's eyes closed as the warm wind rustled out in the forest, sending in a gentle breeze that mixed the scents around her to combine with the aroma of the Greenwood itself to become absolutely intoxicating. The moment was cut short when she heard the soft rustling of fabric; her eyes snapped open to see the form of Thranduil himself standing in front of the window. She tried to find her voice, unable to stop staring at the way the moonlight and the starts seemed to make his form even more impressive.

She clasped her hands behind her back, letting her fingernails dig into her palms, the small pricks of pain letting her come somewhat to her senses. She took a slow breath and quietly bowed her head in reverence as she addressed him, "My Lord I have come as you requested."

Thranduil stood silent as his eyes scanned her form, and Mirwen could feel the heat of blush glowing on her pale cheeks at the scrutiny. His stare fell on the dingy hem of her dress and she couldn't hide the way she began to tremble slightly. Would he still say nothing to her?

"Were you not born in my father's kingdom?"

His voice startled her, and the question took her by surprise. She swallowed hard as she forced down the nervousness that was plaguing her, "I was my Lord."

"And your senses of hearing and sight are they not as acute as your Silvan heritage suggests?"

Mirwen was further perplexed by his question, and she couldn't help but tilt her head in confusion as she answered, "They are, my Lord, I do not understand."

"So I am to assume that you must be _foolish_, is that it?" His voice dropped into an angry whisper and she blinked owlishly at the insult. "You must be foolish; I cannot be mistaken, because any other end would suggest you willfully disobeyed the laws of this kingdom."

A shiver of fear danced across her skin, "I...I..."

"Yes," he continued as he stepped out of the light of the window and strode towards her, his hands clasped behind his back, mirroring her position, "_You_. The laws of this kingdom, enacted by my father when he rode to war state that it is forbidden to wander in the forest without permission from the king. Did you have my permission to leave the palace after the evening meal?"

Mirwen felt herself tremble as he leaned in closer to her, his crystalline blue eyes boring into hers with an intensity that she had never experienced from anything before. It was threatening, and yet dominant at the same time, no different than the bears that she had seen in the forest when they cornered a deer.

"You have not answered me."

"N..no, my Lord," she stuttered out in a breathless whisper. "I was, I was restless after the meal, and I…I needed solitude, I..."

She watched as his handsome face twisted into a sneer, leaning in so close to her that she had to lean back to pull away, feeling the heavy, solid door behind her preventing any further escape. Mirwen could feel his breath warm on her face, and his body was so close to her that she could feel his energy all around her, he smelled of everything she had breathed in earlier, only somehow _more so_. Her heart was racing in a rhythm that she could not understand, and yet she could not look away from the power in his gaze.

"I do not care what you sought in the forest, or for your need of solitude. You will not leave your rooms again unaccompanied. In the morning a guard will be assigned to escort you within my halls, and you will have a handmaiden attend to you in your private quarters." His eyes swept up and down her body again before he added, "You are to be the Queen of the Greenwood and the Woodland Realm in a week's time, and you will never appear like_ this_ again. Is this in any way unclear to you?"

Shame stained her face bright red at his words, and Mirwen barely had the breath to whisper, "No."

Thranduil stepped away from her and turned his back, staring out of the window on the forest. His voice was no longer angry, but instead it was a cold detachment void of emotion, "You are dismissed. I will allow you this last walk to your rooms unattended."

Mirwen felt her throat tighten; never in her life had she endured such treatment from another. No one had ever spoken to her with such derision, it was bereft of any of the civility that an elf should have, let alone one that ruled over her people. This was to be her husband? A sudden spark in her gut ignited her temper, and she remembered what she said in the forest to her father- she would not be treated like this. She may not have come from a great Sindarin kingdom of the west, but he would treat her as an elleth should be treated.

She stood up tall and squared her shoulders letting her fear fade, "Will you ever speak my name to me, King Thranduil?"

He did not move from his position at the window with his back still to her, the moon glinting off the green leaves in his summer crown, and though it suggested the warm season to come, his voice was as cold as a winter snow when he finally spoke, "You are dismissed."

She didn't wait another moment, wanting to be as far away from him as possible. Mirwen opened the heavy door and closed it behind her before she made her way back to her rooms as the unfamiliar feeling of tears filled her eyes and spilled down her pale cheeks.

This was to be her husband- she was to be bound for all time to a king who thought so little of her that he couldn't even speak her name.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Thank you so much to those that have given this story the attention that it has received! I am so excited to let it all unfold. This next little bit isn't particularly exciting, but we do start to see some more character development...after all these two have a long way to go!**

**As always your follows and favorites and of course reviews are amazing...it keeps me going! I am letting this out a little rough, but I promise to polish it up if necessary! Enjoy! XOXO**

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><p>The morning dawned with a bright, warm sun, and with the sweet near summer breeze, it was a feeling that Mirwen normally would have woken to with a smile. But on this day she lay on her bed in her plain linen night dress with her eyes staring up into the high window with an indifferent gaze.<p>

She hadn't slept at all the previous night. After her confrontation with the king she had walked back to the rooms that she shared with her parents, remaining outside the doors until she had sufficiently dried her tears and made herself presentable. Not that she gave either of them a chance to look at her, she had made her evening greeting a short one of a word or two before she retreated to the small bath they had in the family quarters.

But even the warm spring water that she had perfumed with lavender oil to help her relax had done little to help her calm down. She'd scrubbed the dirt from the soles of her feet, lying back in the small steaming tub and trying to forget what it had felt like to be so frightened by another. There was no other word for what she felt, what it had been like for him to step his body into her space, to act in a manner that was brutish and rude to her despite his status.

Mirwen shivered at the memory as she slowly sat up on her bed. It was true that his manner had repulsed her, but the power and energy she felt from him...it was like nothing else she had ever experienced. A strange, unfamiliar feeling fluttered low in her body when she realized that in a week's time she would become his wife, and share his bed. What would it feel like to be joined _intimately_ with...she shook her head hard to ignore the thoughts that her foolish mind was having.

She frowned at herself- he'd called her foolish as well. The anger came back to her in waves; he thought her foolish for taking a walk in the forest like any Silvan elf would do naturally? What did he expect her to do when she felt unrest? She was to be bonded in a week's time to a stranger, how else was she supposed to feel?

_I do not care what you sought in the forest, or for your need of solitude._

His voice, so angry and so cold echoed in her ears, and she was stunned to feel her eyes water again. He told her that her feelings meant nothing to him- and he couldn't even look at her and say her name. She touched her cheek as a single tear fell. She had never felt such a feeling of uncertainty in all her years, and as she looked down at the gold band on her finger, she wondered if she would be able to bond with him even for the love of her fellow people. If this sadness was so strong now...would it overtake her if she was forced to be by his side and hear that cold voice day after day?

A small knock on her bedroom door startled her and she wiped her face gently before she cleared her throat and answered, making a smile in her tired voice, "I am awake."

The door opened to reveal the form of her mother Lhindis, and the instant that Mirwen saw the gentle and concerned look on her face, she had to fight the tears again.

"Good morning, my daughter," she said as she observed her for a moment before crossing silently to her bedside and softly sitting beside her.

Mirwen looked at the beautiful emerald green gown she wore; it matched her bright eyes and contrasted with the auburn hue of her hair. Her mother had always been the picture of elegance and grace to her, and when she remembered the way she looked last night in front of the king- she had never wished so much to be like her.

"Good morning, _nana_," she answered still trying to smile.

Her mother gently took her hand, stroking it in hers as they both sat in silence. Mirwen sighed as she felt her mother's fingers tracing the intricate pattern of her betrothal ring. Despite the unease of the past day and her current confusion, it was the healing presence of the elleth that had given her life that finally afforded her some much needed calm and peace.

"There is a hand maiden here to attend to you sent by your betrothed," Lhindis said thoughtfully. "It will do you good to have a companion as you prepare for the ceremony."

Mirwen nodded in an appeasing agreement, "Yes, I think it will be helpful."

Her mother sighed softly as she reached out to touch her face with a tender stroke, "We spoke of what happened last night after you returned to us; of your walk in the forest, and of the king's displeasure with your absence."

Mirwen lowered her eyes at her mother's words, she knew that her attempt to hide her sadness the prior evening had failed; she never had been very good at deceiving either of her parents.

"I do not wish to cause you further grief my daughter, but you must understand that we have raised you to be a proud, strong elleth, and your betrothed is just as strong. This union will be an enduring one, I know it. You stand tall apart from one another now, and yet in our very forest you can find two tall oaks entwined as they grow together. This, as with the trees, will take time to find harmony if you let it. Marriage is nothing if not work, but I promise you, it is good work."

She wanted to believe her mother, but she also knew of many trees that when grown too close, one would suffocate the other as they fought for the sun. She couldn't see the king bending at all to allow her to move beside him.

"I will remember your advice," she finally answered resting her other hand on top of her mother's. "We have long years ahead if us."

"Yes, many happy years of peace and content in our Greenwood," Lhindis smiled broadly as she kissed her daughter's forehead, "And the laughter of many, _many_ little elflings."

Mirwen laughed at her mother's eager comment, standing as she smirked, "Yes, _naneth _it has been too long since you and _ada _have had one, maybe it is time again."

Her mother's eyes narrowed and Mirwen knew better than to test her ire where future offspring were concerned. "I would like to meet my new companion, I think it is time to dress for the day, and I certainly need to break my fast and eat after such a long night."

Lhindis rose from where she was sitting, still with the same suspicious look on her elegant face, "I will send her in, and I will finish with the morning meal, before my dear husband starts to go looking about."

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><p>Mirwen rose from her soft bed and walked to the door just as it slid open to reveal an elleth with large blue eyes and dark brown hair who was very petite in size. In fact, she was little taller than a grown man. Mirwen smiled at her and took her in as she smiled sweetly, "I hope this morning finds you well, Lady Mirwen."<p>

Her voice was so soothing that Mirwen felt at ease instantly. "It does," she answered honestly, "and I hope you as well-?" She trailed off to ask her name and elleth replied easily.

"Tithenmamiwen, my lady." She paused for a moment and added with a wry smile, "It is a long name for so small an elleth I know, please call me Tithen."

It was the refreshing bit of humor that had Mirwen really smiling for the first time in a very long time, "I do not find you small, in fact I have the unfortunate problem of standing too tall; so it is all a matter of perspective I think."

Tithen laughed again and playfully kicked out the long hem of her simple olive colored dress, "Tell that to my poor fingers after I have to raise the hem line of everything I own."

Mirwen walked to where her clothes were neatly hung in a cedar wardrobe still smiling as she tried to find something among the normally plain dresses that she favored that would be more "appropriate" to wear to appease the command she had received last evening. "Well, I cannot speak to that," she said as she banished the memory of the king's insult of her appearance from her thoughts, "but, I can tell you that there is nothing more embarrassing than dancing at a feast and being more than a head taller than your partner."

"Very fortunate for you then that our king is such a tall ellon," Tithen countered as she walked across the room to join her. "You two will look enchanting when you dance together."

Her body instantly jumped at the comment and she tried to keep her hands from shaking at the mention of them being that close to one another. Tithen must have noticed her discomfort, but she said nothing, instead she reached out to sort through the dresses with her, her fingers finding a dress that was a made from a very delicate pale yellow fabric.

"What about this one?"

Mirwen pulled out the dress, remembering that it had been a gift from her begetting day just a few years before. She'd only worn it the one time, too concerned that she'd soil it. But as she stared at the wide neckline and the fitted sleeves, she remembered that it had fit her perfectly.

"Yes, I think this is a good choice."

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><p>Mirwen sat in front of her mirror after freshening up and slipping into the dress, letting Tithen gently comb through her long hair. She pulled the sides back into a loose braid that ran the length of the cascade and after a few comparisons they decided on a very simple silver singlet to rest on her head. As much as she was sure that Tithen's presence was supposed to have been a punishment to her, she certainly felt like it was a gift.<p>

They both finally walked out of her room to find her parents sitting at the carved oak table with the morning meal spread out in front of them. Mirwen sat down and gestured for the smaller elleth to sit next to her, trying to remember that she was she was attempting to be more regal as she stared at the choices of fresh berry preserves, whipped buttercream and still cooling bread. But the truth was, she was absolutely starving, and as she reached for a healthy chunk of bread she gestured for Tithen to do the same. She slathered on a healthy bit of the creamy butter and some tart preserves and took a large bite as her father poured a bit of tea for her and her guest.

"Welcome to our table," Aradan said to Tithen as he sipped at his own tea, "and to our rooms, it does me well to see my daughter with company at this time in her life. Tell me, how did you come to be of service to the king?"

Mirwen frowned as she wiped her mouth daintily; the sudden thought that Tithen was someone that was bound to serve _him_ didn't sit particularly well with her.

Tithen merely smiled and answered, "My father was killed by orcs before the war, he was a guard of King Oropher on a journey to Lothlorien, they were ambushed and he took an arrow. My mother sailed when he did not return, the grief was too much for her to remain behind. King Oropher took me in, and King Thranduil has given me protection since, thank the Valar."

Aradan's face drew serious, "I remember that ambush; I was on patrol on the borders of the forest when it happened. We lost many brave fighters that day."

"My sweet little one," Lhindis said softly, "that was nearly five hundred years ago, you had to be but an elfling."

"I was little more than two hundred," Tithen admitted. "But there have been many in my situation, I was honored to find favor from the king. I miss him still."

Mirwen watched as her father's face seemed almost distant as he sipped at his drink, "He was a good king, it was too soon to see him gone."

All at the table nodded solemnly, and it was her mother that broke the silence with a smile, "And it will bring happiness to us all again to see a wedding happen. The Greenwood has never had a celebration like this, it will be one matched only by the day that King Oropher himself came to us from Doriath."

The sentiment and emotion in her mother's voice was enough to make Mirwen put down the delicious bread and jam that she was enjoying. She suddenly found herself without an appetite at the realization that she had somehow completely forgotten the fact that her wedding to King Thranduil would no doubt have with it a massive feast. One where she would be on display to the kingdom...possibly Lords of the other great kingdoms.

It was enough to make her stomach flip with anxiety and fear. She had never been on display like that before, and to have it be at such a time of uncertainty...how was she going to do it with only Thranduil there to find her strength in. In fact she was so consumed by the thought that she missed her mother's question entirely and soon found herself the center of attention at the small table with three pairs of eyes focused directly on her.

"Did I miss something?" She asked as innocently as possible, taking a small bite of the bread that she was not interested in just trying to calm herself.

"I was asking Tithen if she could accompany you and I to the seamstress today who is sewing your dress for your bonding ceremony, she agreed, and I asked you if you liked the idea," her mother answered with a very interested smile on her face. "You did not answer."

Mirwen cleared her throat and nodded, grateful of the idea of getting out and walking around, even if it was just for a moment. "I do, I will enjoy the company, and another opinion on my dress."

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><p>"My Lord, what shall we do about the requests for aid from the villages along the Celduin, there are more that have been sent just this morning?"<p>

Councilor Hannor's deep voice echoed across the table, and Thranduil came out of his thoughts to see the tall ellon spreading out a long parchment with a new list of requests. He took a deep breath and stared at the expectant table of advisors.

"There are orc packs now freely roaming along our easternmost borders, we must address this."

Thranduil shifted in his tall chair and gestured for the lukewarm glass of nettle tea that he had long forgotten about after his morning breakfast. After a long sip of the liquid he stared around the table with a thinly veiled look of irritation. He had never changed his position about the aid that the Greenwood would give once since he became its king, and yet the same questions continued to come from the counsel every single day.

"Our position will continue to be what it has been," he spoke in a smooth tone. "Our concern is what occurs within our borders, what happens beyond them is not ours to contend with."

"But my Lord," Gwythion said as he rose from his chair, "our concern is with our supply routes being disrupted. Trade with Esgaroth is crucial to our continued stability, we must offer them some aid."

The murmurs of agreement from the table had him inclining a brow in further irritation as he answered, "Have our supply routes been disrupted?"

"As of yet they have not, but it is only a matter of time."

"No, I do not think so." Thranduil corrected him with a wave of his hand, "Even the filth that has seeped from that accursed land knows better than to cross into the boundaries of the elven kingdoms and disrupt our trade. They will continue to trek north, and again, they will move on and I do not see how it will concern my people."

"We do not know the other fortunes of the other kingdoms," Hannor said boldly, taking a tone that reminded him of one that his father had taken with him when he was an elfling. The words alone had him rising to stand from his chair his long silver robe falling off his shoulders as he leaned onto the table, his eyes flashing as he took on his father's advisors with a cold stare that he'd used more times than he could count in battle.

"What do the fortunes of those kingdoms have to do with my lands?" Thranduil sneered as he stared at Hannor, tired of the endless drivel of talking and politics. "Do you think Elrond of Imladris has care of the Greenwood? Or Lord Celeborn and the Lady Galadriel herself that have taken their residence in Lothlorien after the death of Amdir, do you think they care? No, they do not. They are content to sit and protect themselves in this new fragile, hard won peace- a peace that my father, your great king was slain to achieve."

His fists were curled with rage hard enough that the ornate betrothal ring that he had on his finger began to dig into the skin, the pain focusing his anger as he stared at the assembled council. "I will have no more talk of other lands, they are _not_ my concern. You are all adjourned."

"But my Lord," Hannor protested, "we have discussions ahead about your bonding feast preparation-"

"You are adjourned," Thranduil growled. "I am finished with this mindless chatter today."

He didn't even bother to see them out, he simply turned his back to them and stalked to the window, staring out into the forest and leaving them in silence. The sound of rustling robes quickly came and when the great oak doors of his study finally closed behind them he sighed out audibly. A bemused and sardonic laugh puffed out from between his lips, it was before the mid-day meal, it was a bit too early to start with a glass of Dorwinion wine- but it was certainly an appealing thought.

Thranduil rubbed his temples with one hand as he staved off a twinge of an oncoming headache. His rest the previous night had been a pitiful one at best. His encounter with his future queen was certainly not the one that he was hoping for. He'd wanted to talk with her, set her at ease, perhaps introduce himself as a normal pair would before they were to be bonded. But instead, he'd heard that she had put herself in danger out in the forest unguarded. Admittedly it was fear more than anger that had him barking his orders at Gwythion, but when he saw her standing in front of him, he'd lost the polished control that befit his royal status.

He could still remember what she looked like with her eyes closed in the low light resting against his door, breathing deep and seeming to scent the air around her. She was nothing like the elegant and poised elleths that he'd known in his own culture, instead she was everything the forest was- wild, untamed- and he couldn't stop the way he responded to it. There had always been a pull in his blood to the Greenwood, and when her wide, lovely, hazel eyes opened up to take him in, he was lost.

There was everything in that stare, her innocence, her spirit...and suddenly there was a spark of fury in his gut when he thought of what would happen to her in the hands of the evil he had faced. Something so delicate and pure would be forever destroyed and poisoned by that filth- and then the realization that she had knowingly put herself in that foolish situation as the future queen of the Woodland realm was too much for him to control his temper.

He wanted to frighten her. That was his reason for crossing the room and practically pressing his body against hers. He wanted her to know what her actions could have done. But as soon as he did it, he regretted letting his temper get the better of him. His keen senses were overwhelmed with everything about her. He could see the flecks of green, amber and brown in her eyes, he could hear her trembling breath, feeling the warm air as it huffed against his face- and her scent- the earthy rich smell of the forest clung to her, mixing with a sweetness that was borne of her alone.

It took all of his strength to stop himself from burying his nose into the crook of her neck and greedily taking more of it. Instead he'd used the feeling of incredible desire that overwhelmed him to let his queen know how she would be expected to behave. He told her she would not appear before him again looking like she did...and he meant it. Because there was no way he could keep any sort of decorum with her if he had to look at her for one moment longer.

Even the memory had Thranduil taking a deep breath to get himself back under control. He wasn't a stranger to the charms of an elleth, he had been of healthy breeding age for a very long time, and despite the fact that he hadn't joined with another, he had certainly sampled enough about them to know that his bonding night would be a pleasing one indeed. He smiled in spite of himself, remembering her last words, asking him to say her name. He couldn't even look at her, how was he supposed to speak her name when he couldn't bring himself to look at her without wanting to take her to his bed?!

He soundly reasoned that it had been an expedient decision to send Tithenmamiwen to keep her company. It would be a way for him to keep watch on her and keep her safe, and still keep her far enough away that he could still try to salvage some sort of a cordial formality with her.

A soft knock on his door interrupted his musings and he turned, unsure of just what councilor would be the first to try his patience. "Enter," he called out with an absent gesture, surprised when it was the tall form of General Aradan who calmly walked in.

"My Lord," he said with a low bow of his head and a hand on his heart that Thranduil mirrored before he rose. His sharp eyes scanned the room, no doubt noticing the lack of the normal crowd that was missing around his table. "Where are the advisors?"

"I need a break from talk and politics my friend," Thranduil explained, not hiding the smirk that came across his face. Aradan nodded sagely before he walked over to stand beside him at the window looking out over the forest as the warm summer sun shone across the treetops.

"I wonder, my king, if politics are given a break this morning, if I could speak freely to you on something else that is weighing on my mind?"

"You may," he answered. "Tell me, is it related to the orcs on the border?"

"No, my Lord," Aradan said, "I wish to speak with you about my daughter."


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: So happy to post again for you all! Thank you again to all that have followed and favorited this story, as well as those that have left your words in a review. It is honestly SUCH motivation I cannot even begin to tell you. Please continue to do it, you have no idea what it does!**

**I cannot wait to get this out to you, so it might not be perfectly edited...but I will take my time to go through it and catch my mistakes I promise you!**

**Please enjoy...and please, leave a little contribution in the review box...I would be forever thankful!**

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><p><em>I wish to speak to you about my daughter.<em>

Aradan's words hung in the air between them, and Thranduil felt a strange emotion strike him. It was something that could have been nervousness, but he wasn't wont to give it a particular name. His relationship with the general had been different than with any other of his people since the Dolgorlad. Despite the fact that Aradan was very much his subordinate in all ways, he had comforted his grief in the war in a way that could only be felt as a father to a son.

It was this strange layer that had him take pause for a moment before he answered, "You may speak on that freely if you wish."

Aradan stared out over the forest before he sighed softly, "I wish to apologize for her behavior, and my part in it. I have held Mirwen very close as she grew, with no son I am afraid I have raised her as one more than I should have. She is a proud elleth because of my doing, do not judge her harshly for it. If you feel displeasure towards her, I ask that you do not treat her unkindly."

The comment took him genuinely by surprise and Thranduil's mind froze. He had been concerned about her, driven to anger by the thought of what could have happened to her, but he had only wanted to make her feel the fear she should have...what could have happened to make her father say this?

"I was stern with her out of concern for her safety," he admitted truthfully. "Perhaps too much so."

"I understand." Aradan said and nodded simply, "That was all I wished to say, I will leave you to your quiet, my Lord." He turned to leave and Thranduil could not stop the question that instantly came to his mouth, compelling him to turn around and stop his general before he left.

"Was she in distress?"

The older ellon's voice was soft when he replied, "I believe she may have been, but I would not worry. Such feelings will pass quickly. An elleth can be quite a fragile creature on occasion, but I have found in my years that they are stronger than we are in many ways."

Aradan finally departed and he was left in the quiet of his study with a feeling in his stomach that felt uncomfortably like it was guilt. The realization that he had caused her emotional pain was something that did not sit well with him at all. It was not what he intended. He saw those wide, lovely eyes as clear as day in his mind, and the thought that they had been filled possibly with tears of sadness made him furious at his behavior.

He may be king of the realm, above the reproach and question of any...but he was not above the weight of his own conscience. He owed her something that he'd not given anyone in a _very_ long time, a honest humbled apology.

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><p>Mirwen walked with her mother and Tithen through the halls of the kingdom, her eyes darting back now and then to the guard who politely kept a distance behind them. So this was to be her life, constant vigilance and her every move watched, well, being queen certainly wouldn't be a lonely life.<p>

As if Eru himself had heard her thoughts, she looked up to see the sloping grand alley of the main walk, and above that the massive carved form of Thranduil's ornate throne. It was carved from a single ancient oak, and as she looked at the utterly impressive structure she noticed for the first time that there was enough room on it for two to sit side by side.

She wondered if she would sit beside him in more than just a symbolic way. There had never been a queen in the realm before, King Oropher's wife had been lost long before he journeyed with his son east. She wasn't sure what type of behavior that would be expected of her. Thranduil spent his days in conference with the council, and despite her nervousness about her future, she knew that she wanted to sit with him when the time came.

After all she was the only offspring of a soldier, now a general, politics and warfare had been things that had been taught to her because there was no son in her place. Would he think her capable of such things?

She stared down at her hands, absently rubbing them together to feel the calluses from the bow and dagger work that she had continued to do. It certainly wasn't uncommon for an elleth to do it, but how would it be for a queen to do so?

Mirwen looked up to see Tithen as she slowed her steps to walk beside her. "You have the fingers of an archer," she said with a bright smile. "I have always had trouble, I have such small hands it has never been easy for me."

"Oh? You have experience with a bow?" Mirwen said with a genuine note of excitement in her voice.

"Experience is a very loose way to describe it," Tithen replied with a sheepish shrug. "King Thranduil has had an endless amount of patience with me over the years, but I am a bit too _im_patient of a student it seems. It is so easy for one with such a broad chest and long arms to draw, I cannot do the same."

Mirwen listened to her explanation and found herself very interested in the fact that the king had taken the time to be patient about teaching anything. Quite frankly that he had even offered his time to her seemed to be something that she could barely get her thoughts around. He seemed so distant and aloof at dinner, the fact that he would give archery lessons to a young elleth left her completely confused. "I could teach you, if you would like," she finally spoke out.

Tithen laughed softly, "I warn you, I am a very temperamental. But I would enjoy the lesson I think."

Mirwen smiled at her, frowning when she remembered that she wasn't at liberty to wander as she used to, the forest was always her preferred place to shoot. But, she reasoned that the ornate archery range that the soldiers used should serve them just as well. "Lucky for you I am patient," she answered.

"We will see."

* * *

><p>They walked through the halls until they reached the quarters of Ningannel, who was perhaps the most exquisitely talented seamstress in the entire realm. She greeted them at the doors with a warm nod, her dark brown eyes sparking as she led them in.<p>

"It is good to see you again Lady Mirwen, and Lady Lhindis."

"And what about me?" Tithen's voice piped up from behind them.

Ningannel smiled and stared pointedly at the small elleth, "I remember you Tithenmamiwen, your dear mother was my finest seamstress, and _you_ were quite good at getting underfoot and unraveling scanes of my finest fabric."

Tithen laughed at her gentle chiding, "Yes, I certainly did."

"We have come to see my daughter's dress," Lhindis said.

Ningannel nodded and walked them back to the open area of her quarters. Her dress was on full display, and Mirwen couldn't help the purely instinctive feeling of almost giddiness that filled her at the sight of it. Despite her misgivings about what would happen in the future, all she knew now was she was going to be able to have this gorgeous dress made just for her. Normally she would have refused to admit that she had such a pointless and greedy emotion- but she couldn't help it.

The dress was simple in design, yet still elegant. It was made of the finest silk in a very pale green that mirrored the lush green foliage of the summer forest. The neckline sat wide on her shoulders, the bodice and the upper sleeves were tapered to fit her body closely, while the lower sleeves and the bottom of the dress cascaded with voluminous lengths of delicate fabric, and sewn throughout it were tiny green gemstones that caught the light and shimmered like starlight.

"I have only a few last stones to sew in," Ningannel said with a proud smile. "It is my finest creation. I have spoken to the king's tailor as well and I am confident that you will match him to perfection."

Her mother seemed very pleased with the news and before she knew it Mirwen had changed into the gown and was standing in the center of the room as the seamstress fussed over her hemline and the way the dress was falling. She was the center of attention and she couldn't stop fussing with her hands as Tithen looked her over with a grin.

"You are staring at me," Mirwen finally said in an exasperated tone.

"Because you look like a queen," Tithen answered with a laugh.

Mirwen shook her head as she stared at herself in the mirror, she may not have felt like a queen, but she had to agree with the small elleth, for the moment at least she did look the part.

* * *

><p>They spent the entire afternoon with Ningannel, she put the final jewels in place, and when Mirwen changed back into her yellow dress, she realized with a strange bit of anticipation that the next time that she wore the dress she would be bonded to Thranduil.<p>

"It is time for the evening meal," Lhindis announced as they finally walked back into the main halls with their guard escort who had waited patiently for hours. "Tithen, will you join us tonight?"

"Oh, my lady, I..."

"You must," she insisted. "If you are to be my daughter's companion you should accompany her to all things."

The smaller elleth nodded eagerly, "I would certainly enjoy the meal."

"And I the friendly face," Mirwen admitted as they continued to journey to the palace.

* * *

><p>Thranduil had spent the majority of the day combing through the correspondences that had been dumped on his desk. Admittedly without the distractions of the council he was able to make it through the intimidating pile relatively easily. He'd taken the time to personally respond to letters from the Steward of Dorwinion thanking him for his patronage and telling him of an incredibly rare vintage that had been sent and would arrive in time for his wedding feast.<p>

He sipped at the half full wine glass next to him as he returned his quill to the ink pot. His eyes caught the low position of the sun in the sky, and his stomach reminded him with a hearty growl that the time for the evening meal hadn't come a moment too soon. He rose from his chair and walked to the door just as a knock sounded.

"Enter," he answered automatically, nodding for a brief moment at the guard who met him.

"My lord, the table is being set."

"Thank you," he said with a nod, following the guard out of his study.

He could hear the chatter of the group before he entered the dining hall, and despite the fact that his council today had irritated him beyond belief, the laughter that echoed up to the vaulted ceiling was a welcome sound. It was a reminder that the kingdom that his father had loved more than his life would endure.

As he stepped into the room, the twenty or so elves seated at the grand oak table rose to greet him with a reverent bow of the head, a gesture that he returned before he walked to the head of the table and took his seat. A goblet filled with his favorite vintage instantly appeared along with a plate piled high with fresh fruits and cheeses.

Thranduil took no time at all sampling the various delicacies on his plate as the conversation resumed around him, and as he savored a bit of tangy cheese and a sweet bite of date, and despite the pleasure the food brought him it wasn't long before his eyes traveled of their own volition to seek her out.

She was sitting not three seats to his left, beside her parents, and young Tithenmamiwen. It pleased him to know that they seemed to genuinely enjoy each other's company. He had long wished his father's ward to find another elleth to enjoy true friendship with. It certainly had been difficult since his assumption of his duties to spend any measurable time with her at all, and though he would never admit it to the youngling, he missed her joy in his life.

Mirwen laughed pleasantly at something one of the councilors at the table had said, and the sound and sight of her pulled him out of his musings and seemed to bewitch him instantly. Her hazel eyes were sparkling and there was a dusting of pink blush along the flawless skin of her neck and chest. She was in a simple yellow dress that normally would have seemed completely ordinary on another- but her grace made it something else entirely.

For the first time in his three thousand years he felt his heart race, not even the hordes of Mordor had taken him like this. He could barely suppress the urge to walk to where she was sitting and take her into his arms. It was a strange sensation that he couldn't control, and it wasn't until Hannor felt the need to get his attention did the wave of passion seem to ebb.

"My Lord, tonight we have a gift from the men of Dale, they have sent you and the Lady Mirwen some of their best clover honey. The kitchens have prepared it in the dessert this evening, and it also is paired with the fruit you have."

Thranduil nodded brusquely, not particularly interested in the gift, or the dessert. That was until he saw Mirwen take a ripe fig covered in the sticky honey and daintily pop it between her lips. Her pretty pink tongue came out to catch the last bit of the liquid that was left behind, and instantly his body responded to it.

Now, he wasn't a stranger to what an elleth could evoke in him...but this...this was an overwhelming need that he had never felt before. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, thanking the Valar for the voluminous robes he was wearing.

"Yes, thank you for informing me," he finally managed to grind out as his future queen continued to unknowingly tempt him.

"There were reasons beyond the gift that accompanied the letter from Dale," Hannor continued as he sipped at his own goblet of wine.

Thranduil took a deep breath and tried to remain calm, he had dismissed him earlier for talk of politics, and now it would seem that he had condemned himself to a meal filled with the chatter he would have endured earlier in the day. He sighed and looked over at the older ellon. "Do continue, Hannor."

"The men are concerned with the dwarves in the mountain of Erebor. The small mining colony has seen an increase in population coming down from the Iron Hills."

The mention of dwarves was enough to instantly have him frowning. He'd had no love for those creatures for an age. It was a distrust inherited from his father, the dwarves of Norgod had sacked Doriath and killed the elven king over the greed of jewels and precious metal in the form of a simaril forged necklace. Oropher had in fact moved the capitol of the Greenwood north from the original location to get away from the influence of Moria, and now Thranduil would have them close on the eastern border if they permanently colonized the lonely mountain.

"There is rumor of great riches in that mountain," Thranduil answered pointedly. "As long as there is promise of wealth there will no doubt be a continued interest from the dwarves. My concern will be in their impact in that region."

"What do you mean by that?"

Thranduil rubbed his forehead in irritation, "They delve greedily and with no thought of the consequences of such hoarding. There are foul creatures that will come if gold is amassed in that mountain, it is too far to the north to go unnoticed."

Hannor's face blanched for a moment before he regained his composure, "Do you speak of dragons my Lord?"

"I do not deign to think on it," Thranduil answered. "It is why my policies provide for my kingdom as they are. We need not concern ourselves with Erebor until it is necessary to."

For the first time since his ascension to the throne the councilor was in silent, merely nodding his head and returning to his food.

* * *

><p>Mirwen was engrossed in her meal, and specifically the unbelievably sweet clover honey covering the ripe fruit on her plate. It was a gift for her wedding, or so she had been told by several of the servers and the councilors at the table. But her eyes were not long before she found herself staring at Thranduil.<p>

He seemed to be irritated as the elder Hannor discussed something with him. She strained her ears to try to pick up anything, but she couldn't.

"He is discussing something about dwarves," Tithen said quietly as she raised her glass to cover her mouth.

"Oh, what do you mean?"

"I mean the king, who you cannot take your eyes from, is discussing something about dwarves with Councilor Hannor." She repeated.

Mirwen could feel heat rising up in her cheeks at the comment and she stared into her food trying to ignore the fact that she had both been caught staring so foolishly, and the fact that her heart was galloping furiously.

"Though, I would not feel coy about it if I were you my lady," Tithen added with another smile, "Because he has not stopped looking at you either."

She tried to brush it off, but the curiosity got the better of her, because she hadn't seen him watching at all. But this time as she raised her gaze from her plate to where he was sitting, hazel eyes met glacial blue. It was a strange moment that Mirwen couldn't explain, because in those eyes there was an intensity of emotion that she had never seen in any ellon before.

It was a feeling that she could never describe, it was as if she had never seen the sunrise before. Her entire body came to life, her heart racing and her hands trembling, and low in her body that same fluttering cramp that she had felt this morning. In fact she was so lost in her confusion that she missed it.

"Lady Mirwen."

It was Thranduil's deep voice calling her name out. He had said her name, not in privacy between the two of them, but at a table in a crowded room.

Mirwen was so overwhelmed with the moment that she froze, staring at him wide-eyed, before realizing how foolish she looked in front of the council and the elves that she was supposed to rule as queen in less than a week. She was trembling as she spoke back to him, "Yes, my Lord-"

She barely had the words leave her mouth before she turned her body to him, her hand absently knocking her full goblet of wine over, the flood of deep red liquid flowing into her lap to stain her pale yellow dress. The crystal glass crashed to the floor and she instantly pushed back her chair, embarrassed of the terrible mess that she had made.

Mirwen fell to her knees to pick up the shards as the murmurs of the table around her began to echo in her ears, she tried to stem her tears, how could she have behaved so carelessly, she was supposed to be a queen. She was so distraught with her actions that she mistook the position of one of the sharp slivers of crystal. It bit into the palm of her hand and she gasped in pain as she pulled her hand back.

Her eyes went down to the wound to discover that it was bleeding yet thankfully shallow, but it was the hand that suddenly clasped hers that took her completely by surprise. The long, elegant fingers wrapped around her hand, taking it with a firm pressure that spoke of a command of the situation. Mirwen's head raised up to see the king himself - Thranduil- crouched before her on the smooth stone floor, his eyes scanning the injury to assess it.

Despite the sting of her palm, Mirwen could not stop herself from feeling overwhelmed with his presence. He was as close to her now as he had been in his study the previous night, but this time there was none of the anger in him. Instead she was confronted again with the wonderful scent of him and when he lifted his eyes to look from her hand to her face- she did not understand the way that her heart thundered in her chest.

Thranduil rose gracefully from the floor, still holding her hand as he pulled a small kerchief from the pocket of his ornate silver robes to wrap her hand with a careful binding. "It is not deep," his voice said softly. "But it should be looked at by the healer."

Her throat was parched dry with her anxiety and she was trembling when she answered, "Yes, my Lord, forgive my clumsiness."

"It was nothing to forgive," he said. Mirwen noticed that he still had not let go of her hand, and his eyes were focused on the gold rings that they were both wearing.

It was a strange suspended moment between them, and she couldn't help but blink slowly as she stared into his face, he was still as beautiful as that day long ago when she watched him march proudly. The moment was broken only seconds later when she came out of the strange trance to hear the serving staff cleaning up the mess on the floor, and as her eyes darted to the table she could see the crowd staring at the two of them.

Murmurs of shock and gossip filled her ears with such a roar that she could not discern the words. All she could realize was that the king himself had attended to her, and she was standing with him still looking as incredibly regal as he should while she was before him in a plain dress that was ruined with a horrible stain. She suddenly felt her cheeks flush with the realization that every single one of the assembled elves at the table were weighing her in her ability to stand beside him- and there was no doubt with her appearance that she would be found sorely wanting.

A feeling of shame washed over her and Mirwen pulled her hand back from his, bowing with courtesy as she managed to hold back her tears enough to say simply, "I will take my leave to the healer, my Lord." She turned without looking up at him, not wanting to see his eyes, or any of those at the table before she walked out of the hall as quickly as she could.

* * *

><p>Mirwen managed to get to the healer's quarters with little trouble, her embarrassment ebbing considerably once she was away from the crowded hall. She was now more upset with herself for behaving like such a coward. If her clumsy behavior didn't give the others enough to talk about, her silly running from her betrothed like some sort of fool would.<p>

The shallow cut on her palm was covered with an herbal poultice and wrapped in a clean strip of cloth with simple instructions to leave it in place for a day and the wound would heal itself. After a cup of herbal tea to stimulate her body at the instruction of the healer she walked back into the hall with the realization that her pride probably had taken the larger of the injury.

Mirwen stared down at the kerchief that the king had given her, the healer had washed the stain from it while she had waited patiently. A strange compulsion came over her when she realized that she wanted to return it to him and thank him for his concern for her. It took her another moment to realize that she had fled the dining hall so quickly that a guard hadn't bothered to follow her- and for some reason Thranduil hadn't sent one.

Without a second thought she began to walk towards the king's study, determined that she would apologize for her earlier behavior. He would no doubt be at the meal for a while longer, she rationalized angrily with herself that it would give her plenty of time to find her common sense that she had thought she'd found in the forest during her walk the previous night.

* * *

><p>Mirwen walked back to the ornate oak doors of his study with a decidedly less anxious feeling then she had the previous night. Her uninjured hand gently pushed open the door, and she stepped quietly inside. The grand room was just as she remembered it from the previous night, the aroma of the warm forest and the dark wood mingling with the fragrance of different oils that the lamps were burning. She couldn't help but breathe it in deeply, savoring the scent and instantly shivering at the memory of being so close to him tonight.<p>

A faint noise came from a far corner of the room, and her attention was drawn to a large staircase hewn out of the stone. It was pure curiosity that had her journeying further into the room, knowing that her presence was at the very least inappropriate- and at the very worst an intrusion into his personal space. But she ignored it all and kept walking, berating herself for being so foolish this morning because of her encounter with the king to take her dagger with her that her father had always trained her to keep on her.

She kept her steps small and cautious as she came to a large landing that lead to an interior hallway and another, more intricately carved set of doors. Ignoring her common sense again she pushed through the heavy door, silently taking her steps into the darkness.

It took a second for her sharp elf-eyes to adjust to the lack of light, but it wasn't long before she noticed that the ceiling of the hall vaulted upwards taller than any other room that she'd been in save the throne room itself. The elaborate scrolling of stone work and rich tapestries that lined the walls gave her pause- she couldn't be entering his personal wing?

A glow from the corner of her sight called to her and Mirwen walked to see it, her delicate hem brushing the ground as she walked to the arching doorway. There were woven glass doors that caught the light of the early moon and stars that filtered in from an opening high above, and it was admiring the starlight for a moment that kept her from realizing what she could see through the open glittering doors.

But when she realized what she was looking at- it stopped her dead in her tracks. From the sliver that she could see, they obscured a room filled with smooth stone and a lavish pool that seemed to steam with heat from a natural forest spring. There was a plush couch that was partially obscured from her, and on a far table there seemed to be endless bottles of the finest oils and extracts that no doubt were made from every flower and sweet smelling plant in all of the great lands of Middle Earth.

And there, on the end of the sofa was a pile of a fine silk dressing robe...her eyes widened and her mouth fell open when she saw someone approach from the corner of the unseen room. It was shadows at first, and Mirwen knew she should have looked away- but she couldn't- she couldn't tear away from the form that stepped into the starlight.

That same feeling was back, her heart racing and her skin tingling as she watched the blessed light shine down on the utter perfection of Thranduil's body, completely unencumbered by the normal acres of fabric that he always wore. He appeared as the Valar made him, lean and muscular, his long blonde hair free of his crown fell to the middle of his broad, toned back, his legs were long and elegant... and his backside was high and tight...the utter flawlessness of the Sindarin form...

Mirwen's hands trembled when she realized that he was turning to step into the warm water, she wanted to run, and at the same time the increasing warmth and sense of desire that was consuming her body compelled her to stay. It was an awakening of everything feminine and sacred in her body for the first time. It was the call of the very _fea_ energy inside her to reach out to the ellon that would sire her offspring and bond to her unto eternity.

She compelled him to turn to her, so that she might see all of her betrothed husband...

Suddenly Thranduil's entire body tensed, and Mirwen knew that he could sense her. The fog of her desire evaporated to finally leave the very real situation in its wake, she had intruded on the private space of the king without permission. It was something punishable by time in the dungeons or worse- instinct took over her as she nimbly turned to flee towards the main halls.

Her hand reached out to the oak doors that lead towards his study when an iron grip clasped down on her other arm. She tried to struggle in vain as she was forcefully drawn back into the solid wall of a tall, unyielding body- and the cold, razor sharp edge of a sword came up to rest against the bared skin of her throat.

There was no escape, fear raced again through Mirwen's body as she felt his breath hot on her ear.

* * *

><p><em>Fea: 'Spirit' <em>


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: I am very sorry for that little cliffhanger (not at all), but hey at least I managed an update soon! Thank you to everyone for continuing to give this story attention! Please, please let me shamelessly beg for it to continue! It really does mean the world! **

* * *

><p>Thranduil heaved a tired sigh as he walked into the secluded alcove of his private bath, the desire and frustration still coursing through his body from the dining hall. He was furious with himself and his behavior. He couldn't control his actions during the evening meal, watching her talk with Tithenmamiwen and smiling at the young elleth- he'd felt something akin to <em>jealousy<em>.

Because he wanted her to look at him that same way.

Her name had just fallen from his lips, just as simply as if he had spoken it a thousand times to her before. The syllables caressing his tongue with a sense of comfort that he couldn't explain.

Of course any enjoyment that he had from it was tempered instantly when she turned to look at him, her beautiful eyes looking like a frightened doe. She had barely stuttered out a breathless reply to him before shaking so badly that she spilled her wine all over the front of her gown before the goblet crashed to the ground.

He had gotten up from his chair the instant that she fell to her knees to the mess of broken shards. There was no thought of protocol, or the fact that he as a king should not behave in such a way. All it took was the sight of the slight injury on her palm to call him to her side. He'd knelt down and taken her delicate hand in his, examining the wound to find it thankfully shallow, the experience he had with his own injuries from an errant blade coming back to him as he pulled a kerchief from his pocket to wrap it.

But he couldn't let go of her hand when he was finished. Thranduil felt like a fool, with just a touch she had rendered him completely enchanted. Her skin shamed the softest silk, and all he could smell was the sweet fragrance that he'd taken in the night before in his study. He could barely manage to speak to her, and when she pulled away to run to the healer, he could barely suppress the urge to run after her.

In fact he had done little more than walk to his chair and sit barely long enough to eat the main course of dinner before he rose once again to excuse himself from the meal with little more than a mumble, ignoring the dessert that had been specially prepared for him. There was more than a little chatter the moment he left the hall, and if he had to wager, he had given the council enough to speculate and debate about for the next age.

Thranduil shook his head as he walked to the corner of the room to the shelf of essential oils that he had procured from trade all over the land, realizing that after the dinner tonight it was going to take more than the waters of the warm forest spring to soothe his restlessness. He grabbed a small vial of a rich infusion of pine and cypress oil that he'd made himself from the more ancient trees in the Greenwood, adding just enough to the gently bubbling pool to perfume the water.

Of course with the fragrance of the forest came the memories of his betrothed queen, that wild Silvan creature that he was quite sure had to have beset him with some sort of magic-and as he walked to the settee in the corner to remove his thin robe, he was confronted with the evidence of the very physical spell that she had put on him.

He groaned inwardly as he stared down at himself, irritated with not being able to control his body's desire to mate with her. It was as if her was a youngling again first experiencing an awakening of lust. He had been alive for an entire age and then some, and he had never been this compelled by a craving to join.

He walked back to the pool, letting the calm of the room and the starlight above center his wandering desires again. Thranduil closed his eyes, breathing in deep and feeling his _fea _come in line again- and just as quickly his body throbbed with an overwhelming rage of passion.

Suddenly his battle honed and deadly instincts alerted him that he was not alone.

He moved with a speed and fluid motion that he didn't have to even have conscious thought of. In a swift, graceful turn he grabbed his sword from where it lay still sheathed on the sofa- it was never far- and turned toward the shadow that was now racing back to the door of his study.

Fury rose up in him as he stalked the intruder who dared to come into his space, his elf-eyes adjusting as his hand snapped out to grab the shadow. It was a surprise to catch an arm that was both lean and delicate in a tight grip, and Thranduil came out of his rage as he hauled the body into his own, the blade in his grip resting against the pale column of a graceful throat.

Genuine surprise struck him as he felt the curves of a decidedly feminine form as it molded into his, and his heart nearly stopped when he smelled the sweetness of _her_. His Mirwen had come into his space, and the tumult of emotion that swirled in him at that realization had him breathing in agitated breaths.

She trembled in his arms and it was the anger and desire that had him speaking lowly in the darkness, "This is what comes of wandering in the darkness unprotected." Her chest rose and fell in an alert state of near panic, and Thranduil continued, "I do not take kindly to a violation of my privacy. These quarters are mine alone, what are you doing in here without my permission?"

Mirwen tried to control herself as the sharp bite of his razor sharp sword blade eased away from her throat, but his arm remained around her, keeping her pinned tight to his body. Her instincts were still driving her to flee or fight for preservation from being injured- but there was another awakening that suddenly stirred her when she became very aware of the press of a very different part of his body against her backside.

The feeling created a bravery in her that she didn't understand. Part of her wanted to submit eagerly to her mate- and yet somehow another part of her remembered her independence and the anger she felt in the forest only yesterday. These quarters may be his alone for now, but in a week's time, would she not live here as well?

Mirwen cleared her throat, willing her voice to be strong as she answered him, "I came to your study to offer you thanks for your care tonight, I heard sounds and was concerned, so I followed."

"You needlessly entered with no thought to your safety?" He challenged her, his voice still low in her ear.

"I was alarmed that someone was in your study without-"

"So you intruded in their place?"

Mirwen gasped as he suddenly spun her around and pushed her against the oak door, not letting her move as he pressed against her again, this time letting the front of their bodies mold together. She was dizzy for a moment as his overwhelming presence consumed her, her hands balled into fists and the sharp bite of her injured palm cleared her thoughts. She stared into his eyes, the low light making them glow.

"Is it an intrusion when I am to be queen?" Her voice was challenging him, and when he rose a brow in question she was compelled to continue. "Or will I be unwelcome in your personal quarters when we are bound?"

There was a shift between them at her words, and Mirwen felt her body seeming to yield to his as he leaned in to her. The electric sensation of her _fea _surged in her body, and she suddenly became painfully aware of the fact that her betrothed husband was indeed completely naked and pressed against her.

Thranduil shifted his weight, pressing into her as he leaned his face closer to hers, and suddenly the small cramp that had been simmering low in her body since last night ignited with a blazing intensity. There was a steady throb now centered in her very core that responded as his eyes fell to her parted lips.

"Mirwen -" He whispered her name so quietly that she almost missed it.

She shivered at the sound of his voice answering in a husky voice she couldn't recognize, "My Lord."

Whatever she was expecting from him for a reaction she couldn't have been more surprised. He seemed to go from an almost dominant passion to a cold glare in a mere blink of an eye. His posture went rigid and he stepped back from her, his icy blue eyes matching his demeanor as he cleared his throat and stared at her.

"You are dismissed from my chambers."

Mirwen's thoughts raced as badly as her galloping heart as she stared at him with a sense of disappointed confusion, "My Lord?"

Thranduil stepped back further into the shadows, his body's naked form hidden from her as he spoke again, "You are dismissed from my personal quarters. Your intrusion will be forgiven provided you do not repeat it. Your presence here is inappropriate until we are bound."

Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment and Mirwen could barely keep her jaw from falling slack at his words. She had to squeeze her injured palm again for the pain to clear her thoughts enough to reach behind her body to grab the door handle and when she found it she moved as quickly as she could to turn and exit without uttering a sound.

She practically fled from his study, her feet swift on the stone floor. Everything inside her was in utter chaos, her heart, her head and her very _fea _were pulled in every direction. She felt so hopeless and lost that she could not bear the thought of returning to her parent's rooms again to have them see her like this- so she did the only thing she could think of to find peace.

She ran down the sloping bridges of the palace halls to where the archery practice ranges were, making sure that she was unseen as she snatched a bow, a quiver of arrows and lastly a long green cloak that had been neatly hung by an unsuspecting guard before she made her way to the gates.

The same hidden paths that her father had showed her when she was a child were always clear from any sort of heavy patrol, and it took her nothing at all to sneak out undetected into the safety of her forest.

* * *

><p>Thranduil was frozen as the door to his quarters closed behind the elleth that he had just dismissed from his sight as if she had been some sort of trespasser. His hand tightened on the handle of his sword and his eyes closed as he tried to control his raging body and energy. He was so stirred and, by the Valar- <em>aroused<em>- that he needed something to break him from it.

She had nearly tempted him to madness, feeling her soft and graceful form against his, and the way she instinctively yielded to allow him close. It was as if Eru himself in his divine wisdom had made her to fit him. Of course that thought had the traitorous and overwrought pressure between his legs seem to throb unbearably.

How could this be happening to him? He felt like he was an absolute slave to the lust in his body. It was against everything that made him an elf. He was made to be stoic and reserved in all things, and yes, he was meant to join with an elleth out of love, but it was not supposed to be like this! He felt no better than a mortal man- or forbid the thought a greedy creature like a dwarf- because the thoughts she stirred in him were against everything he knew to be proper of his Sindarin lineage.

His jaw clenched almost painfully as he closed his eyes and the memory of her face danced in his mind. He had to send her from his sight, he couldn't bear to let her tempting grace remain for even another second. If he had, he scarcely wanted to think of what he would have been driven to.

Elves did not join outside of the bond of a marriage union, and yet his body thought of nothing else.

Thranduil growled angrily as he turned and stalked back to his dressing room, pulling on a simple pair of dark grey jerkins and a matching tunic, before sliding on his tall boots and securing his sword belt around his waist. He wrapped a hooded cloak around his body, both to shield unfriendly eyes when necessary, but most of all to avoid being seen as he stormed out of the hidden path from his private rooms out into the forest.

* * *

><p>Mirwen breathed deep as she stared up into the tree canopy. It would seem as if even her aim was subject to the unrest in her body. She stared at the long fallen oak that she had been using for target practice to find that she couldn't even manage to get her arrows to hit nearly the way that she had wanted them to. Naturally her aching palm, cut by her own foolish clumsiness had not aided with the outcome either.<p>

Though despite her terrible aim, she did feel markedly more calm than she had when she had fled from the palace hours ago.

She had been gone for hours.

Mirwen shook her head at the realization that her parents would have long returned from the dinner meal to find that she was not in her room. They possibly had even visited the healer to find that she was not there either. She did not want to upset or frighten them with her behavior- but she had to leave them just the same.

She refused to think about what had happened with him. Thranduil had left her with such a feeling of distress that she did not want to think on it for another moment. She especially did not want to think of what she had wanted of him had he not dismissed her with his brutish manners.

But he had been so close. Her eyes fell closed as she pictured his face so near to hers. Never had an ellon other than her father kissed her...but those had been ones of affection against her forehead when she was a small elfling. Her lips had remained unclaimed by any.

Mirwen sighed as she leaned up against the strong trunk of a beech tree. Her free hand, unencumbered by the bow, came up to touch her lips with an absent caress, and no matter how much she wanted to ignore it, the realization that it was Thranduil that would be the first to kiss her was enough to make her heart race.

The thought frightened her as much as enticed her. She was scared of just how he would go about it. He was so cold one moment, and so domineering and dominant in the next- would he overwhelm her?

The loud crack of a twig in the distance had her sharp ears perking up and her body quickly spinning an arrow out of the quiver to nock it against the bow string in preparation for whatever it might be. Her honed instincts picked up on a large creature moving through the glade, one of the grand elks that made the Northern Greenwood their home.

She silently moved through the trees as she watched it walk. It was certainly a strong bull, and judging by the size of the massive velvet covered antlers that had already grown so early in the season, it was one that was in the prime of its life.

Mirwen smiled softly at the animal's majestic nature, suddenly freezing in her tracks when a hooded figure stepped out of the shadows. She found cover behind the wide base of an oak tree, her eyes widening further when the form stepped into the light and the dark green hood fell back to reveal the handsome face of the king himself.

* * *

><p>Thranduil smiled as the bull made his way over with a calm, measured gate. He had not expected to see the animal this far from his home, but it was a welcome surprise. The great elk had been his friend for many centuries, the one he had ridden to war. His blood line had in fact been one that had fought courageously beside the Silvan elves since they first wandered into the Greenwood. But his kinship with the animal had been cemented when its regal father had been the animal that Oropher had ridden into battle.<p>

They had both become orphaned grown sons the day they fell on the field of battle, and it was the only creature, perhaps aside from Aradan, that he felt that he could truly speak his mind to. Not as the King of the Woodland Realm- but simply as Thranduil Oropherion.

He lowered his head in a small bow as the elk stopped in front of him, his hand touched his heart in a gesture of greeting no different than he would give to another elf.

_It has been many years, my friend. _

His voice was a clear thought in his mind, and the animal responded with a bow of his head. The magic of the elves had long let them speak to all the beings the Valar had created, and it was a tie to the life and harmony of the forest that had always brought him peace.

_Long years for me, yes, though not for you._

Thranduil felt a genuine smile slide across his lips as he reached out to lay his palm against the animal's forehead. The velvet softness of his fur seemed to further relax him and the tension and confusion in his energy seemed to ebb for the moment.

_You are restless. _

The elk's thoughts gave him pause, and he knew better to try to deny his feelings. Simple animals thought nothing of such deceptions, they knew only honest instinct and true emotion.

_I am. I do not know what is the cause of my behavior. _

The animal took in a deep breath and huffed it out its nose with a sense of finality.

_You are in need of the rut. You grow restless from this need. Have you found a bonded mate to take? It has been long years, you must join to a mate._

It was a curt diagnosis that was the last thing that he wanted to hear. But apparently it was the truth. Thranduil sighed at the animal, scratching behind a large ear to reward him for his insight.

_I am to be bound in less than a week's time. _

_That will do you well. When you mate you will find peace, and you will sire a strong offspring._

Thranduil nodded, his mind instantly conjuring up the image of Mirwen, her long brown hair loose and wild, and the delicate silk skin of her belly as it stretched tight around the elfling that grew inside her. It was nothing that had ever compelled him with such an incredible urge.

_I hope it is as you say, old friend. Because I cannot endure this feeling for an entire age._

The elk snorted again with a nod, leaning his head into Thranduil's chest to receive more of the scratches that were giving him pleasure.

_It is. A mate will help you find contentment as mine does to me._

_Where is she now? _

_She grows restless. She is nesting for our fawn, she will birth it very soon, before the moon sets the next night. I have come to find her birth root for her pain, I will present it to her as her mate to care for her._

Thranduil smiled at the small hint of excitement in the animal's always steady tone.

_I will help you find some, it will be easier for me to dig it up._

_You have my gratitude friend of old._

* * *

><p>The distraction of searching for the birth root was a very welcome one, and it wasn't long before he managed to locate the plant that he was looking for. It was a low growing herb with a bright three starred purple flower, the roots were long but shallow in depth with fleshy nodules.<p>

He dug up several of the plants and wove the tangle of roots into a long braid that the elk could easily carry in his teeth. He was just finishing the braid when a light forest breeze picked up, sending on it the scent of something so sweet it was unmistakable. His head whipped around to a large birch tree in the distance, and his eyes caught sight of a flutter of pale yellow fabric fluttering out from behind it.

She was out in the forest again alone and unprotected. His anger flashed again and he called out to her with little care for the fact that it was not at all the conduct that he should be exhibiting.

"The laws of my land have not changed in the day. You are in the forest without my permission."

Thranduil waited patiently for a moment before Mirwen walked out from behind the tree, a guard's cloak on her shoulders and a carved bow in her hand. He was expecting her to perhaps be as she was when she left his rooms- but instead it was like nothing he could have imagined.

Her moves were natural and proud, with all the grace of a queen.

His queen.

"I needed the walk, my Lord."

She stood before him silently almost as if she was daring him to speak again. The energy began to surge in his body once more, and as he opened his mouth, it was his elk friend that cut the through the building tension. The animal simply walked up to Mirwen and bowed his head, gently leaning in and encouraging her to scratch behind his ears .

Mirwen laughed softly at the animal's eagerness and bowed her own head in respect before she did as she requested and slung her bow on her shoulder and reached out to run her delicate fingers through its soft fur.

The situation was enough to calm whatever was igniting between the two of them. As she stroked the elk's ears softly, Thranduil watched her, walking up to run his fingers through the long shaggy fur on his neck. She looked up to meet his gaze, surprised that they were so close to one another without a strange bit of emotion to hide behind.

They simply, just, _were_.

"We should return to the palace," he spoke up softly. "Our absence is no doubt noticed."

Mirwen nodded, starting with genuine surprise when the giant elk lowered his body to permit her to climb onto his back. She kept her legs to one side, the skirt of her now completely stained and ruined dress hampering her ability to ride easily. As she settled her weight, Thranduil gracefully mounted the animal, settling behind her and letting his arms come around her waist to hold her close.

The elk rose once again, and Thranduil's voice was quiet beside her ear as he spoke a humble thank you to the animal beneath them for his offer of transport. She couldn't suppress the shiver at the sound of his low, smooth voice so close to her, and the feeling of his strong body behind her was something that she couldn't ignore if she had tried.

In an attempt to free her thoughts Mirwen let her eyes roam upwards towards the canopy of trees that were overhead. The starlight filtered through the leaves and the beauty of it lulled her into such a feeling of comfort that she almost missed it when Thranduil spoke.

"My behavior earlier towards you in my private rooms was not as I intended."

His warm breath fanned her ear and Mirwen closed her eyes at the rich tone, "My presence was inappropriate, my Lord."

He was silent for a moment before he answered, "Thranduil."

"My Lord?" She questioned.

"You need not use my titles when we are in private. It would please me to hear you speak my name."

Mirwen nodded, her heart fluttering in her chest as she nervously cleared her throat, "As you wish... Thranduil." She chewed on her lip for a moment, weighing her thoughts before she continued, "I would have you speak mine to me as well."

He chuckled lowly, "I do not know if that is best to do, the last time I did it ended with you having an injury."

Mirwen smiled, feeling her cheeks flush with embarrassment at his candor. "Actually, if I remember correctly, that was not the last time that you spoke it."

His arms tightened around her almost possessively for a moment, and she was worried that she had offended him at the mention of it. He had, after all, been naked in front of her.

"I stand corrected, Mirwen."

* * *

><p>The remainder of the ride to the palace halls was done in a comfortable silence, and it was the first time that the two of them had enjoyed true peace together. Mirwen could feel the energy of her <em>fea <em>moving through her, and instead of it being chaotic and overwhelming it was a gentle wave, something that seemed to flow and ebb as if it was reaching out. It was the answering hum of his energy that seemed strange.

It felt as if it was enveloping hers, weaving and twining at the very fringes. As if it wanted to combine somehow to form one.

She wondered if this small peace between them was the start of something that had forever changed.

* * *

><p>Though whatever calm and peace that existed from the walk in the forest quickly ended as they arrived at the gates to see her father and a patrol of armed guards preparing to depart.<p>

"My Lord," Aradan said as a look of relief came over his features. "We were concerned with your absence, and for my daughter's as well."

Thranduil nodded his head, "Lady Mirwen and I have returned, there is no need for concern."

Mirwen watched as her father nodded, looking closely at the two of them. She found herself lowering her eyes at the realization that they were in a very familiar position, the king's arms were holding her close and he did not seem to mind the attention of his soldiers in the least.

He dismounted the tall elk with ease, reaching out his hand to take hers as the animal again lowered himself to make it easier for her to slide off. Her hand remained in his as the animal rose again and Thranduil reached into the pocket of his tunic to hand the braided birth root off.

"May your fawn be blessed, my old friend."

The elk bowed his head in reverence before he turned and walked slowly back across the river. Mirwen turned with the king as he held her hand up, the regal gesture was something that she tried to mirror, despite her soiled and completely ruined dress. He walked them past the guards and into the gates, before finally stopping to face her.

He bowed his head, and touched his hand to his heart, "I will bid you a good night, Lady Mirwen."

She mirrored the gesture, her voice soft and slightly trembling with nerves as she answered him, "Good night, my Lord."

"Until tomorrow."

Thranduil walked away with confident strides, and Mirwen couldn't help but watch him as he disappeared down the winding corridor towards his personal quarters. She could not describe the feeling that blossomed in her chest, nor the sense of emptiness that seemed to grow as he moved further away from her.

Somehow, between the evening meal and the forest something between them had changed.


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: I am so happy to be able to get out this next part for you all! The response to the last chapter was amazing, and it gives me nothing but inspiration! Thank you all, truly, reviews are love and man I feel it!**

**This chapter is a bit of more development as we have two people that are starting to connect...so I hope you enjoy.**

**Also I LOVE to leave little breadcrumbs in my stories connecting them to the bigger picture that will follow in the future, can you find it here?**

**Please enjoy, read, review and share that love! I need it to deal with the never ending snow that has become my life...thank you all again! Much love! **

**Letting this out a little rough, I'll fix any mistakes I promise...I just want you all to have this chapter for Friday!**

* * *

><p>Mirwen woke with the sun the next morning, her eyes following the rays out of her high window to take in the beauty of the late spring. There was none of the discord that she had felt the previous morning, in fact she was smiling without even realizing it. She had spent the night remembering what it had felt like to be held by the king as they returned to the palace on the back of a great forest elk.<p>

Of him asking her to ignore his titles and formality and use his name, for no other reason than that it pleased him to hear it spoken in her voice.

And he'd done the same in return.

For a moment they weren't hidden behind pride and a bonding ceremony only days away, they were simply an ellon and an elleth that were enjoying one another's presence. It was something that she was eager to feel again. She wanted to see him today, if only to see if his behavior towards her had been something real and true.

Mirwen rose from her bed and quickly washed her face in the cool water of the basin in the corner of the room before deciding on a very simple amber colored dress. It was one of the more functional ones that she owned, and she picked it out with the express purpose of making good on her promise to Tithen to teach her how to better use a bow.

She was winding the long cascade of her hair into a loose braid when a quiet knock sounded on her door and a moment later Tithen herself appeared with a smile on her face.

"Good morning, my Lady."

"Good morning to you as well," Mirwen answered, not missing the sparkle in her blue eyes as she stared at her.

"How is your hand?"

Mirwen turned over her palm to reveal that the healer's herbal poultice and tea had indeed left her with little more than a thin red line that was completely closed. "I am feeling just fine to have your archery lesson, I have not forgotten."

"I am looking forward to it," she replied as she crossed the room to take her braid into her hands to better work the hair. She was quiet for a moment before she cleared her throat, "You were the topic of much discussion last night after you and the king left the meal early."

Mirwen's cheeks flushed red as she tried to remain as calm as possible, "Oh? What do you mean?"

Tithen rolled her eyes as she continued to braid, "I mean the council, who has had nothing to talk about for far too long, chattered on long past the time that dessert was served at the way the king cared for you. They said they have not seen him show such emotion since his father's passing in the battle."

"He was just being kind to me because I injured myself, it was nothing he would not have done for you, or my father," Mirwen answered.

"Perhaps," she smiled slyly, "but there was talk this morning in the halls that I overheard that you two were in the forest together. That you arrived at the gates on the back of a great elk, and his arms were around you _tightly_."

Mirwen could not stop her jaw from falling slightly at the innuendo in her tone, making it sound like they had been seen doing something scandalous. Then her eyes narrowed at the realization that Tithen's story sounded much more like the gossip that was bandied around in the kitchens by some of the older elleth who prepared the meals than by the king's council.

"And where was it again that you heard such things?"

"It may have been in the kitchens getting my hands on one of the utterly delicious sweet honey cakes that they served for dessert last night." She admitted with a laugh, "Ones that I might add were made for you and the king as a wedding gift, and neither of you even had the chance to sample it."

"Well perhaps you and I should make a trip to the kitchens after our lesson."

"Of course my Lady, _perhaps_ Lord Thranduil would enjoy it if you delivered him something sweet in his mid-day council session as well."

Mirwen shook her head at the elleth's friendly teasing as she rose from her chair to grab her bow and a quiver of arrows, "Very well."

* * *

><p>The walk down to the archery practice range was infinitely calmer than the previous night. Mirwen found herself relishing the warm, sweet breeze of the forest that moved through the caverns. It felt like the summer's sun was finally starting to rise in the sky, and the life and energy it brought with it seemed to surge in her.<p>

The range was empty so early in the morning, and Mirwen found a wooden target in the far corner that would give them an opportunity to practice without being on display. She gently placed her quiver on the ground and motioned for Tithen to stand in front of her.

"Now, I imagine that you don't pull a bow regularly?" She asked as she flexed the string with ease.

"I do not," Tithen answered honestly.

Mirwen handed her the bow, instructing for her to reach for it with the hand that felt natural to do so.

"I want you to pull she string back to your cheek for me, and if you cannot that is alright, but do not let the string slip from your fingers."

"Why not?" Tithen asked with a curious tilt to her head.

"Without an arrow it actually will cause damage to the bow."

She nodded and lifted the bow, pulling the string to her face with only a little bit of difficulty. Mirwen watched her, seeing the strength in her shoulders and her back, and was impressed with the elleth's form. They were muscles that had taken her a very long time with a training bow to develop in her own body.

"How does that feel? It should take you work, but it should not completely exhaust you."

"It does not," she said as she shrugged her shoulders. "I often help in the kitchens and the laundress, I am used to carrying heavy things, and I am good with my daggers. I am strong."

Mirwen listened, surprised that someone so young had ambition to work so hard. "Very well, that will certainly help our lesson."

Tithen grinned wryly as Mirwen handed her an arrow, "I have always wanted to be a Captain of the Guard, as my father was before me. But your betrothed husband takes particular fondness in reminding me that it is not the place of an elleth. Though, I believe that is something that you can work on for me."

"Oh, yes, I am sure he finds my desires the chiefest of his concerns in our realm."

The joking tone of her voice could not be missed, but Tithen smiled at the unintentional meaning of the words, "I am sure your desires are indeed something the king thinks about."

Mirwen's face flushed with embarrassment, "You are fast losing your endorsement Tithenmamiwen, and your lesson time!"

"Forgive me, my Lady."

Mirwen waved her off as she walked behind her, trying to forget about the mention of Thranduil, but there remained a strange feeling inside her that she could only describe as if she was missing something. She shook it off as she instructed Tithen to raise the bow and nock the arrow silently. She was just about to tell her the proper way to draw back to the side of the mouth to ensure a true shot every time when they were interrupted by the footsteps of another elf moving to the target next to them.

It was one of the younger guards, his name escaped her. He lowered his traveling pack to the ground, taking in both her and Tithen with a polite nod, "Good morning Lady Mirwen and Lady Tithenmamiwen."

Mirwen watched as Tithen's entire body froze, her hands suddenly dropping the arrow clumsily . It clattered to the ground with a sharp slap, the fletching damaged in the fall.

The ellon quickly walked over to retrieve it for her, examining the torn and bent feather, "I did not mean to startle you, I can repair the fletching for you."

"No- I mean, yes you may repair it, it is Lady Mirwen's arrow, but you did not startle me." Tithen answered, her voice higher than normal in tone.

Mirwen was fascinated with the way the points of the elleth's ears seemed to turn red as he nodded, "Please excuse me for a moment, I will return with it fixed." He walked off and Mirwen stared back at her companion with a raised brow.

"What was I just witness to?"

"You were witness to the arrow falling from my hands."

"Was that all?" She pressed.

"I am sorry I ruined it, luckily Orndir arrived he is very adept with archery."

Mirwen clasped her hands behind her back as a deliberately innocent tone threaded through her voice, "His name is Orndir? I am not familiar with his name, I know I have seen him before. He has such striking red hair and green eyes, it is a different look for a Silvan elf. I wonder his position?"

"He is second to the Captain of the Guard, his aim with a bow is second to none... and his hair is auburn," Tithen said, lowering her face bashfully as it flushed bright red.

The way that her companion's eyes fell to the ground caused her a moment's pause, "Why are your eyes lowered, Tithen?"

"I have watched him...I still watch him...but I cannot bring myself to speak to him without making a fool of myself. I am nothing but an orphan who found lucky favor. I am not enough to be presented to an ellon who will be Captain of the Guard in the future."

Her voice was so unsure and Mirwen found herself almost angry with her opinion of herself; but in the same thought, had she not said the same thing about herself and Thranduil?

"You are worthy of every happiness, Tithen - _mellon, _you should be proud to speak to Orndir; and if I am not mistaken he is waiting for you to do so."

"Why do you say that?"

Mirwen's hazel eyes darted up to the ellon who was walking towards them clutching the repaired arrow with nervous hands, "Call it intuition."

* * *

><p>Thranduil had thought that the hordes of Mordor had been the most ruthless creatures that he had ever dealt with, but his father's Silvan council put those foul beasts to shame.<p>

He had made minor concessions to their incessant chatter about the town calling for aide along the eastern borders, permitting supplies to be shipped down river via the barges that returned his wine barrels, and he had agreed to increase the patrols to keep watch on the dwarves that were colonizing Erebor- and just when the flood of irritation had subsided, Hannor decided that his wedding feast needed to be discussed.

Thranduil sighed as he shifted in his chair, remembering the night he had spent with his future queen. How he had let everything from lust to pure calm rush through his body, his _fea_ had been singing with so much contentment that he had slept like a tiny elfling the entire night. He wondered just what it would do to his shrewd negotiation skills when he was subject to Mirwen's lovely light more and more.

Though at the moment, he hadn't had near enough of it to discuss the seating arrangements for the grand table, or for the different flowers and plants that were to be placed around the room. He rolled his eyes in full view of the council and stared at Aradan, who seemed to be suppressing a smile behind the hand that casually covered his mouth.

"I think, councilor, that if you have questions about such things that you can discuss it with the kitchen staff, or those who normally prepare our feasts. I certainly have never attended one that I found to be lacking in any sort of deficiency as far as flora and fauna aesthetics are concerned. But if you have such misgivings perhaps you should ask my future queen, I am sure her delicate eye will provide better insights." He could barely keep the grin off his face as he watched them all stare at one another with a puzzled look before he added, "And if you are concerned about something to wear to match the ambiance or the table cloths, feel free to consult my tailor."

Thranduil watched as Aradan cleared his throat before covering his mouth, the hitching movement of his shoulders giving away the laughter at his comments. He allowed himself a wholly free smile and a laugh of his own that he hadn't enjoyed in a very long time as he watched the councilors stand speechless at his comments.

He finally waved off the mirth with a chuckle as he sighed, staring at the still expectant group, "Do we have anything else from the upcoming ceremony that needs to be discussed at the same table which we handle affairs of the entire realm?"

Hannor seemed more than a little irritated with his lack of interest on the subject, though Thranduil was less than concerned at the moment.

"There is the small matter of who will conduct your ceremony."

Thranduil's brow rose at the comment and he replied simply, "We will wed as any couple weds, I will vow to the Valar and Eru and she will follow. Then I will crown her as my queen after she takes my ring and becomes my wife, what could be simpler."

"But, my Lord, you are a king, you cannot simply take the vows with no ceremony; the visitors to our land will-"

"What visitors?" Thranduil interrupted as he suddenly sat up in his large chair. "I have invited no visitors."

Hannor was silent before he calmly answered him, "We as the council sent word to Lord Elrond of Imladris and Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel of Lothlorien, in this time of peace we-"

It was enough to make him see red once again, Thranduil's hand curled into a fist before it pounded down on the polished oak surface of the desk, "You have committed treason is what you have done!"

There was a loud and sudden outcry from the council, all of them standing as the king rose from his seat, his face red as the crimson cloak that he was wearing.

"My Lord, we have done no such thing!"

"You have deliberately ignored an edict of mine that closed the borders to the Greenwood from outside influence! I told you that I have no concern for other lands and kingdoms, my concern is to _my _subjects. I will bond with my wife like my father, your great king, bonded with my mother in Doriath! Our ceremony is for us and us alone!"

"My Lord-"

"Enough!" Thranduil roared, "I have held this council of elders unchanged in memory of my father, because he loved the Silvan people of this forest, but I think time for it has long passed. I am a king! I am the unchallenged lord of this realm, and I will no longer be in need of advice on how I rule, or my laws!"

The council was in an uproar, voices raised, and it was Aradan who calmly stood and took control of the situation with a smooth tone in his voice.

"My Lord, councilors, please, this is not how this needs be discussed."

Thranduil could feel his teeth clenched down so tight his jaw ached, and it was the love and respect that he had for the ellon in front of him that kept his mouth closed. Instead he nodded and waved his hand to allow him to continue speaking.

"My Lord, the council has only the love of your subjects in their minds," he said cautiously. "This ceremony will be something that they have waited for, for an age. It is a celebration of your father's sacrifice and the hard worn peace that now fills our lands. While we may not open our borders to all, trade and favor with the other elven kingdoms will only strengthen ours. Your wedding will be a feast of joy in a time that joy and healing is much needed. I have not asked you for favor since you betrothed my only daughter, but I will ask this of you, let those great lords into our halls."

It was the tone of the ellon's voice, the sincerity and honesty of the tone that made Thranduil hand his head in resigned irritation, how was he going to deny such a request? To the same ellon who had held him close on the battlefield as he thought himself resigned to grief and the Halls on Mandos.

"For the happiness of my people I will allow this," Thranduil growled. His head rose up and stared at the councilors that were still standing at the table, "I will have no more meetings until I am wed, after my ceremony I will decide on my further need of this tradition. As of tonight, I am in no mood to join the evening meal after this. I_ will_ be uninterrupted until I retire- you are all dismissed."

* * *

><p>Mirwen was smiling with pure joy as her and Tithen walked back to her family's quarters following their time at the archery range, and the remainder of the day taking a guarded walk through the gardens just outside the palace wall. Orndir had been more than willing to accompany them both, and she was elated that she seemed to be right about an attraction between the young couple.<p>

It was wonderful to see Tithen start to hold her head up high, as a beautiful elleth should, and to watch him respond to it was something magical.

She had actually found herself walking a few steps behind just to see it all unfold, absently wondering about Thranduil and how he was spending his day. Would he enjoy something as simple as a walk through gardens in the sunshine?

"I am so hungry," Tithen spoke with an eager smile. "I could not endure more time than we have to for the evening meal!"

Mirwen leaned her mouth down to the shorter elleth's ear, "Is it your appetite for food that has you wanting the dining hall, or perhaps the hope of who you will see there?"

A definite blush colored her cheeks, but she replied with all the bravery that she had always seemed to possess, "Oh it is my hunger that is driving me...but he asked me to sit beside him."

"And you said...?" Mirwen asked as she fondly twined her arm with her companion.

"I told him I have to sit beside you by order of the king."

"You did not!" Mirwen said as she stopped her in her tracks, "I refuse to have you sit beside me tonight, you will sit by Orndir."

"And where will you sit?"

"By my parents as I always do, and you must obey me, I am to be queen so not another word on the matter." Mirwen said with a smile.

"You are not queen yet!" Tithen laughed as they walked to the doors of the quarters. "But I did tell him I would leave a seat beside me vacant at the table tonight."

* * *

><p>Mirwen was more than a little surprised to see her father and mother standing in the middle of the room waiting for her upon their return. It was normally customary for him to be in council right up until the meal time, and indeed she'd only returned to the room because she wanted to make sure that her mother had company.<p>

"My daughter, I need a word with you," Aradan said with a nod of his head, "Tithenmamiwen will you accompany my lady wife to the evening meal?"

"Yes, of course General Aranel," Tithen answered immediately. The two departed for the dining hall, leaving Mirwen and her father behind.

When they were both alone Mirwen turned to her father with concern in her voice, "What is wrong, _adar_?"

"The king had a difficult day with his council today," he explained wearily. "He wishes to keep the realm safe as you know and does not want visitors, the council has sent invitation to Lord Elrond of Imladris and Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel to your bonding feast."

Mirwen could not stop the way that her heart hammered in her chest, she already could scarcely think of where she could find the courage to stand in front of Thranduil and say her vows- but now, to do it in front of the Lady of Light herself?

"He is refusing the meal tonight to stay in his quarters. I would see him fed, he needs the nourishment and the company, even if her does not say so." Aranel explained to her. "You are to be his wife, he needs you as I have often needed your mother to calm my mind."

Suddenly Mirwen knew what her father meant, and stranger still was the compelling need in her to be with Thranduil. The fact that he was upset enough to go hungry concerned her. But at the same time she was nervous about how he would feel about an intrusion when he clearly wished to be alone.

"I will go to him."

Aradan smiled fondly, "You will make a strong queen my daughter, and a beloved wife." Mirwen blushed and he continued with a smile, "I have already spoken to the kitchens, they will have a tray of food waiting for you."

She nodded and he reached out to gently touch her cheek, "_Deh melin, iellig._"

"_Deh melin, adar._"

* * *

><p>Mirwen carried the heavy tray from the kitchen through the winding halls to his study, balancing an uncorked bottle of the finest vintage of Dorwinian wine under her arm with just a little difficulty. The staff in the kitchen had made sure that they had a feast fit for a royal couple to dine- and by the Valar it certainly was heavy enough to be.<p>

The only thing it served to do well was to distract her from the fact that he would no doubt be angry when she interrupted him.

But even that she had planned for before she left her quarters. She had changed into one of the finest gowns that she owned, one that was a deep emerald in color that matched the green leaves of the summer forest. The neckline sat wide on her shoulders, and the sleeves were sheer, large bells of fabric that were fitted to the elbow and hung loose past that. The only thing that made her a little nervous was the fit of the bodice and the waist- they were tailored to fit much more closely than she usually wore, emphasizing the elegant curves of her body. She had unbraided her hair to let it flow freely, the cascade taking in a luxurious wave from the style she had worn all day.

She felt as beautiful as her mother, and after taking a deep breath to calm her heart and her head she set the tray down gently to reach out and knock on the massive oak doors of his study.

There was no answer.

Mirwen furrowed her brow and knocked louder the second time, still with no answer she reached up again just as the door flung open to reveal Thranduil with a scowl on his face.

"Do I need to sentence someone to the dungeons to get peace in my own palace!"

Her eyes went wide as he growled out the threat, before his blue eyes widened in surprise when he recognized that it was her that he was staring at.

Mirwen tried to focus her thoughts as she took him in, wearing a long, dark metallic colored tunic under a crimson cape that spoke of nothing but regal power- his white blonde hair, more beautiful than starlight, was free of his crown. She cleared her throat nervously, "My father told me that you would not attend the evening meal, I have brought one to you to make sure you are not hungry, my Lord."

"Thranduil," he said quietly as he looked at the large, ornate and domed tray that was beside her. "We are in private, and it would please me to hear you speak my name and dine with me tonight...Mirwen."

"Yes, Thranduil, I will dine with you." She smiled and leaned down to pick up the tray, but he crouched down to take it first, making a surprised face as he lifted it.

"You carried this alone? You should have been aided."

Mirwen held the door open and allowed him to easily enter the study, closing it behind them as she answered him honestly, "I did not think that you would appreciate the intrusion of staff, and it was not too heavy for me to carry, Thranduil."

It was not necessary to say his name again when she had just said it, but the opportunity to let the word caress her tongue was more than she would pass up.

He turned to her with a small quirk of his mouth as he inclined his head, "Come, I have a table that looks out over the forest."

She followed him, walking to a corner of the great stone room to an alcove that had a round table with two chairs that was indeed by a window that looked out eastward over the forest towards the mountain of Erebor and the Celduin river. He placed the tray down and gestured for her to sit as he grabbed two crystal goblets from another tray in the corner and a carafe of wine.

"Would you care for wine?"

"Oh," Mirwen said as she lifted the round flask in her hand, "I was told to give you this, it is from the vintage that is to be at the feast, the staff insisted that I convince you to enjoy it tonight."

Thranduil's brow rose as he reached out to take it, uncorking it with a practiced ease before closing his eyes to scent the liquid, opening them a moment later to take her in with a stare, "It will be _our_ feast, Mirwen."

She blushed as he poured the rich, heady wine into the glasses, taking no mind that they were filled to the brim. He gestured again for her to sit and she did, watching as he took his place, the small table keeping them close.

"I stand corrected," she finally spoke, remembering that he had said the same thing to her the previous night.

Thranduil smirked again and Mirwen felt her heart skip at the way she felt the feeling of calm that her body had been thinking of all day- the feeling that she had enjoyed on their ride to the palace the previous night.

He lifted the lid from the tray, showing plates of fruits, cheeses, vegetables and a large selection of fresh honeyed dessert cakes that they had both missed the night before. Thranduil looked up at her with a fond look, "Do you wish me to serve you?"

Mirwen snapped out of her haze, embarrassed that she hadn't offered to serve _him_, "I am so sorry for not serving you, my Lo- Thranduil- I..."

"Mirwen, I did not ask because I expected the gesture from you, I wanted to offer you service. Please do not stand on ceremony, I wish to enjoy our meal together...as we did our ride last night."

"Oh," she said softly. "Yes, please, just a little of everything."

He nodded and proceeded to fill her plate with the same exact foods that she always ate in the same quantity. A strange flutter in her stomach told her that it was because Tithen had been right at dinner the previous night, he had been watching her. After he filled his own plate he reached out for his goblet of wine, raising it up and gesturing for her to do the same. He brought his to hers with a gentle _clink, _before taking a healthy sip.

Mirwen did the same, unable to stop her eyes from closing in pleasure at the taste of the exquisite wine. It was the best that she had ever tasted, and it was certainly a kingly gift.

"Your hand seems better," Thranduil noted as he ate in precise bites.

"Yes, it is," she agreed. "Though my hand is sore, I went to the archery range with Tithenmamiwen earlier, she had a very good lesson."

He scoffed gently as he sipped his wine, "Patience that little elleth does not have an abundance of, though I am not surprised you have the skill to deal with that. You seem to have a way to tame an unruly temper."

She smiled at his compliment, and seeming insult at his own expense, "I do not know what you mean, if I have skill it is because my own temper is less than gentle on a frequent occasion."

"I had not noticed." His dry voice had her looking up to catch his clear blue eyes almost dancing.

"I think you are laughing at me."

His face fell into a serious stare, "Never at you, Mirwen. I did not mean to insult you, I find there is little that I can smile about truthfully."

Mirwen paused as she watched him stare down at the wine in his goblet, his face turning pensive as he worked his graceful jaw absently. She did not know what possessed her to do it, nothing more than the memory of seeing her mother do it so many times over the long years- but suddenly she reached out to rest her hand gently on top of his.

She had been expecting him to pull away, and when he didn't she was surprised. His hands were as they had been the night before when he hand held hers, the fine bones both strong and still elegant, and when he sighed she could not miss the weariness in his voice.

"Your father, I assume he sent you to care for me."

"He told me of your unhappiness, and he had concerns of course, but I wanted to come," she admitted.

Thranduil looked at her with a strange intensity in his eyes, the energy between them instantly returning with such power that Mirwen could swear that she could feel the strength of his _fea _reaching out to touch her though their meeting flesh.

"We are to have Elrond of Imladris and Celeborn and Galadriel herself at our bonding ceremony because my council finds it in their power to disobey my laws when they see fit." His voice was strong and filled with irritation instantly. "I wished it to be as it had been for my parents, you and I surrounded by our people."

His words took hold of her like none other, the notion that he had wanted to treat their bonding like two elves that had made the union after a courtship and love, without the burden of his title and obligations. But in the same thought she knew that it wasn't something that could be done. He was a king, and she would be a queen, their people had suffered though so much during the war...they needed a celebration worthy of their wanted joy.

"The Greenwood deserves to be honored, Thranduil, you as well. Let them come from other kingdoms to celebrate with our people in your honor."

"You..." he paused for a moment before he continued, his voice husky and soft as he confessed, "You surprise me, Mirwen, I find myself unsure of how to respond."

"I am my father's daughter, I value honesty above all else," she answered.

He nodded and grinned wryly, "I dare not tell you what I am thinking about the esteemed guests to our land."

"You are thinking of telling them that they are as welcome here as dwarves."

Thranduil's face lit up for a moment before he let a genuine smile cross his face, letting out a laugh that loudly echoed in the room. Mirwen stared at him, his face somehow seeming more beautiful than she had ever seen it before. Just for a moment he was unguarded from the rigid regime that he held himself to as both a king and a Sindarin elf.

"I would not deign to tell the Lady of Light something so crude," he answered as his thumb stroked hers softly, "Though that bookish Lindon healer is another matter all together."

Mirwen smiled at the joke at Elrond's expense as Thranduil pulled away from her hand, his energy finally calm after an exhausting day, "Now, I do not need to think on the preparations any longer, let us enjoy our meal in peace. Because those honey cakes are a temptation I cannot resist for much longer."

* * *

><p><em>Elvish vocabulary (as decently as I can find it)<br>_

_Mellon- Friend_

_Deh melin- I love you_

_iellig- daughter_


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: Here we are! Another week and another update! I am so beyond happy from all the attention that you all are giving this story, thank you so very much, I cannot say it enough. Reviews and feedback keeps the muse happy- and when she's happy it is a good thing!**

**I do hope that you all enjoy this chapter, there is a lot in here detail wise that I hope you enjoy. I am a fan of the little touches in a story that tie it all together.**

**Please read and review! Won't you please... ; ) xoxo**

**(Oh and I am too lazy to really edit, so if it needs it I will revise later.)**

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><p>"Have you heard anything at all that I have said?!"<p>

Mirwen jumped at the sound of her mother's voice, coming out of her complete daydream to realize that she had no idea at all what she was talking about or how long she hadn't been paying attention. She tried to smile and shake the haze of memory out of her head, but no matter how hard she tried, she could not manage to do it. The only thing that she could think of was the meal that she had shared with her betrothed the previous night.

It had been so... _comfortable _between them. It had been like nothing she had expected, only days ago he hadn't spoken to her at all, and now they had enjoyed each other's company for long past a simple meal. He had taken his time through their dessert, making idle talk about the weather and the trade routes that he had discussed with the council that morning. Mirwen had sipped at her wine, trying not to let it combine with the sweet honey cakes and take her mind floating completely off into bliss.

Though what had truly taken her was the fact that he had willingly shared with her the business of his realm and, what more, he had asked her through a silent gesture to discuss it with him. She had been wary at first, remembering information from conversations that she had enjoyed with her father over their family table, but after she had taken a deep breath and a sip of delicious wine for bravery she had made tentative conversation.

And he had listened. He'd reclined in his chair and he had stared at her while she had made some tentative remarks about the growing cities of Esgaroth and Dale, and how it was a region that had always offered promise of more development if a source of commerce could only be realized.

_"You ...surprise me, again, Mirwen."_

His smooth voice echoed in her ears, and she could still see the way his clear blue eyes took her in with an intensity that she could barely understand. Her heart had been pounding so hard in her chest she was afraid that it would burst out.

He had reluctantly stood when the bottle of vintage wine was drained and the moon had risen high in the sky, taking her hand and leading her to the doors of his chamber. He thanked her for the meal, and for her conversation, bowing his head gracefully as he bid her a good night.

But before she left he took her hand again, his long, graceful fingers closing around hers and he gently pulled her close to him...

"_May I have the pleasure of a walk with you tomorrow after the evening meal? I would like to show you my private gardens."_

She'd agreed, and now in the light of day, she realized how foolish that she sounded. She had been so eager, but it had been the truth. Then he'd bid her a goodnight, and by the Valar she couldn't stop thinking about him.

"I am sorry, _naneth_," Mirwen said as she smiled, looking at both her and Tithen's expectant stares, "What were you saying?"

Lhindis frowned, "I was showing you the elfstone that I have had crafted to give to your husband at your wedding ceremony. I made sure to have it designed with his wedding ring by the same jewelsmith for it to match well."

Mirwen looked over at the polished wooden box in the middle of the table with an emerald green velvet lining, inside was an ornate broach. There was a large pale yellow gemstone in the middle, and surrounding it was a basket of delicate woven branches made of silver.

"It is very beautiful," she said truthfully. "It will wear well on him."

"Where is your mind, my daughter, I know that you are uneasy about your bonding, but you seem truly lost," Lhindis said as she reached out to touch her hand.

The words took her by surprise, and she was further perplexed by the feeling that bubbled up inside her. She felt almost angry, and she knew that it was written on her face. "I am not uneasy about my bonding," she said as she pulled her hand back, "I am nervous, but that is to be expected. I am becoming queen and a wife in the same day."

Her mother paused and Mirwen continued, "My relationship with Lord Thranduil is a new one, we are both getting acquainted... and I am not lost, I am merely tired."

Tithen smiled as she looked over at the two of them, "Have you been sleeping poorly?"

"No," Mirwen answered as she let go of her mother's hand to stand and make herself busy preparing a small pot of herbal tea, knowing that the small elleth was no doubt going to somehow embarrass her with her playful questions. "I just got to sleep later than I am accustomed to last evening."

"Oh that is right, you were not at the evening meal," Tithen said as she stood to assemble the table for an afternoon tea. "How did yours fare? It was only you and the king was it not?"

"It was very nice," Mirwen answered quickly as a heat of red flush began to cover her cheeks and neck, "_Naneth, _can I pour you tea?"

Lhindis stared at her daughter with a strange gleam in her eye, "I would love one...and you did return last night after I had retired, your father waited up for you."

"It was not that late, I was home before the mid-night," Mirwen said more to herself than anyone else as she poured out a cup of fragrant tea into the three cups that Tithen had set for them.

Lhindis smiled softly as her daughter sat down, taking the earthenware mug into her hand as she reached for the glass jar of honey beside the table.

"Has he kissed you?"

Mirwen froze at her mother's comment, her hand clumsily reaching out only to hit her mug of tea and slosh the hot liquid onto her skin. She winced in pain as she reached for a cloth napkin to dab up the mess before clearing her throat, "Oh, he...he has not."

Her mother made a noncommittal tone in her voice as she sipped at her tea, "That surprises me. I have watched him this past year my daughter, and the interest in his eyes is unmistakable. I have heard many tales about the thorough appetite of Sindarin elves, but to see it first hand is another thing all together."

Tithen laughed softly at the other end of the table and Mirwen could feel her face somehow redden to the point that she felt almost dizzy at the rush.

"We have not discussed your duties on the night of your bonding," she continued as she tapped her fingers absently against the table. "As an elleth who still enjoys joining with her husband regularly I would be happy to discuss anything."

"_Nana_, please!" Mirwen said as she covered her face, "I do not think that we need to speak about this."

"Very well, my offer will remain."

* * *

><p>Even without the incessant nagging and chatter from his council Thranduil still found his day had not a moment's peace. It had started the instant he had risen from bed, a tentative knock at his door had one of the guards entering with a hand delivered message from the emissaries of his esteemed and rather unwanted wedding guests. Elrond had written on behalf of all of them, declaring that they would arrive within the next two days with a small entourage, and that they all were graciously awaiting his long-anticipated bonding feast.<p>

He'd sent word to the kitchens, and to the staff around the palace to make the necessary preparations, ensuring that the accommodations on top of the ceremony would not cause his people undue stress. The last thing he wanted was to see them scraping and bowing in front of the heads of other lands- this was their celebration too.

His lip quirked as he remembered the way that his betrothed had spoken to him about it the previous night at their meal together. She had been tentative at first to express herself, he could tell by her cautious demeanor, but it did not take her long to relax and let her natural poise shine through.

Thranduil was somewhat embarrassed to admit that he had been so taken by her graceful intelligence and the pleasing tone of her voice that he had almost missed her words. But she had told him that it was the wish of the Greenwood and its people to celebrate, and indeed, to celebrate him as well.

Her beautiful, wide hazel eyes had held such fire in them as she spoke that it had heated his blood instantly- something that the absolutely delicious vintage that they were drinking had done nothing at all to dissuade.

She sounded like a queen.

By the Valar and Eru above, she sounded like the sagest bit of advice that he'd had at his table aside from her father. He absently wondered what it would do to the rigid sensibility of the council if he had her join them after her coronation. After all he had sat beside his own father, knowing that the duties of ruling the kingdom, preparing for the ability to take the throne in his absence.

Thranduil froze at the thought, did he really intend for Mirwen to take the throne in his absence? He was not foolish enough to think that even with the Nameless Enemy vanquished that there would be an eternal peace in the land. Not with the growing, leaderless world of men, who above all else wanted power, and worse still was the insatiable greed of the dwarves. No, there would be a day again where he would have to defend his kingdom- and his queen would rule when he did.

His wild Silvan queen. At the thought of her crowned and his forever he rose from his chair to walk across the room, glancing out the window as the last light of the day's sun set in the west. It would not be long until he was summoned to the evening meal, and it was the first time that he had ever been eager for it. He had promised her a walk in his garden after they had finished dining.

That beautiful creature walking beside him in starlight- it was almost enough to make him forget about the no doubt incessant chatter that was going to come his way thanks to the impending arrivals.

* * *

><p>Thranduil strode into the dining hall earlier than his usual time, and of course it did not go unnoticed. It was custom for the king to arrive last, and to be seated at the head of the table so those present could give their bow as he passed by- but tonight he was not particularly interested in convention or protocol. Rather, tonight he wanted to meet his betrothed and ask if she would sit beside him.<p>

He admittedly felt a little out of sorts as he stood in the room with his hands behind his back, unaccustomed to waiting on someone else. Thankfully it wasn't long before he heard the loud musical laugh of young Tithenmamiwen, and then another that sounded like a delicate bell. He couldn't stop himself from smiling out of reflex, his entire body instantly feeling light, as if her mere presence was enough to set him to a strange happiness.

General Aradan and his wife bowed gracefully to him, and he repeated the gesture before looking up to meet Mirwen's still shining eyes. Tithen bowed with a cheeky grin before quickly walking off and leaving them standing alone for the moment. She bowed her head gracefully, the pale skin of her neck dusting with the faintest hint of blush. Just the sight of that delicate flesh tinged with blood was enough to awaken the lust that had been generally under control all day.

"Good evening, my Lord," she said softly.

"Lady Mirwen," he answered, his voice smooth and sure, completely belling the turmoil in his body. He paused for a moment before he spoke, a strangle sense of something that felt strangely like nervousness fluttered in his stomach. "Would you sit beside me as we dine tonight?"

Thranduil watched her blink owlishly for a moment, and he was concerned with the thought that she may decline, after all it was unprecedented, there had never been a king and a queen at the head of the table- and he had given her no time to prepare for such an invitation...

"I would, my Lord."

He nodded as she raised her hand for him to take as they walked and he could not help but noticed the way it trembled. It would seem that he wasn't the only one that was affected by the energy that seemed to constantly ebb and flow between them, and when his skin touched hers- he _felt_ all he needed to know in the powerful surge of their _fea._

They walked to the end of the long table, the room instantly falling silent as all eyes fixed on them. Thranduil felt her hand shaking, the enormity of the situation was not lost on him, to stand in front of the council was off putting to the most seasoned. He was amazed when he looked over to see her walking with her head held high, the very image of regal grace- as if she had always been used to commanding a room.

She had surprised him yet again. He truly wondered if he had any idea of the capabilities of the creature beside him at all, and as she sat down beside him he realized he'd have the leisure of eternity to discover them.

* * *

><p>Mirwen tried to remain as poised as she could as she sipped at her wine, her nerves settling slightly as she finished her glass. It was surreal to be seated near him looking out over the long table, her eyes meeting her smiling father's, his pride for her showing enough to give her whatever courage she was lacking.<p>

She had hoped to catch Tithen's attention as well, but her young companion was far too occupied in conversation and a shy smile beside the handsome guard Orndir for the second night in a row. They were completely immersed in one another, and Mirwen could not help but smile at the sight. She had not known Tithen for even a moon cycle, and yet she had such affection for her. To know that this ellon was bringing her happiness, and possibly love, it was a true joy.

"But my Lord, you must understand Dale's concern with the situation."

She came out of her peaceful thoughts to hear Councilor Gwythion's voice to her left, before Councilor Hannor joined in. It only took a moment for her to realize that they were discussing a development of some sort of dwarf colony in the nearby lone mountain of Erebor. Her eyes cast over to see that Thranduil had barely had a chance to eat his meal with their incessant conversation. She stared at her own empty plate and it was as simple as that, she politely asked for a refill of her wine, taking a large sip before she swallowed and took a deep breath.

"I am sorry councilors," she spoke, her voice shaking only slightly. "I am afraid I am unfamiliar with the situation you speak of, would you explain it?"

Both of them seemed to be absolutely shocked at her interruption, and despite the fist in her lap that was curled to tightly her knuckles ached from the nerves in her body, she refused to back down. If she was to be his queen in days they would treat her as such.

"Well," Gwythion finally said, his voice almost puzzled, "there have been letters to the king from the Lord the town of Dale and the Master of Esgaroth expressing concern for a large population of dwarves that have begun to colonize the mountain above them."

"This is a concern," Hannor reiterated, "The dwarves will establish a permanent mining colony, there are rumors of vast wealth in the mountain."

Mirwen carefully considered the information, clearing her throat softly as she noticed out of the corner of her eye both Thranduil and her father were watching her.

"I would think that the men of Dale and Esgaroth should be happy of such a development," she began tentatively.

"Forgive me Lady Miwen," Gwythion interrupted, "but you are not familiar with the delicacies of the politics of the realm, it is something that is best handled by those with such knowledge."

Her hand clenched tighter as she continued, ignoring as Thranduil stared at her, intently now, "I may not have knowledge of the intricacies of such things, councilor, but my statement was a simple one. The area of Dale and Esgaroth is centered along one of the only water trade routes in the east, and dwarves, while admittedly not known for being considerate or enjoyable trade partners, provide a potential for limitless commerce."

"How do you come to this belief?" Hannor interjected.

"Dwarves are miners and craftsmen, they have almost no use for agriculture and farming, yet they feast incessantly. If the dwarves colonize that mountain they will need to trade for absolutely everything that they use. What can the men expect but a profitable agreement? I believe that a settlement in Erebor would prove to give them more trade and wealth than they could ever imagine."

There was silence after she finished speaking, and when Thranduil said nothing at all to agree, or disagree with her statement she suddenly became concerned that she had spoken out of turn. After all, when she had given her opinion to him the previous evening it had been only the two of them away from the eyes of the council. It had been between Mirwen and Thranduil...he had not given her permission to speak upon his behalf...

"My Lord," Hannor said finally, "how do you feel about what Lady Mirwen has said?"

Thranduil sipped at his wine, and relaxed in his chair, his eyes surveying the table of interested eyes, before lastly falling on the wide ones of his betrothed. He could see her nerves as plain as the moon and stars above, she was concerned with how he viewed her speaking out.

Truthfully, he didn't dare tell her that the way she had conducted herself had taken him with such force that he was equally fascinated and overwhelmingly aroused. Never had he imagined that he had found an elleth that intrigued him in such a way.

He couldn't hide the smirk as he stared at the older councilor, "Lady Mirwen has left no reason for me to feel anything aside from agreement. It is as I have said, my concerns are for my kingdom and our borders. Let the men of Dale and Esgaroth contend with the dwarves interest in Erebor."

"Yes, my Lord," Hannor said with a nod. "Though will it not be something to discuss with Lord Celeborn and Lord Elrond when they arrive?"

Thranduil flexed his jaw in irritation as he waved his hand absently, "If it pleases you to discuss dwarves with our guests, please, by all means councilor. I will be far more concerned with the matters of bonding with my betrothed to care about those ridiculous creatures."

The words hung in the air and Mirwen could feel her cheeks darken with blush. He had said, "bonding with my betrothed", and she noticed that he hadn't said anything in reference to the ceremony. She cursed the lustful feelings that had taken over her thoughts recently, which certainly hadn't been helped by her mother's comments this morning, because all she could think was that he was speaking of the physical act of bonding that would truly consummate their union.

Hannor did not reply to the statement, his eyes moving to his plate, and it was at that moment that Mirwen realized that she had been right about what he had said.

Thranduil cast her a sidelong glance as he lifted his wine glass to his lips, speaking just loud enough for her to hear, "Enjoy the silence, Mirwen, he will start up again soon enough."

She laughed softly and raised her glass the same way to keep her words only for his ears, "I will...Thranduil."

She had taken liberty with his name spoken out of the privacy that they had shared before, but when the side of his lip curled up into a half-smile- she knew that it had not been unwelcome.

* * *

><p>The remainder of the meal had been as Thranduil had promised her, the council talked at him constantly about the guests that were due to arrive within the day and the upcoming feast, on some occasions causing him to have to put down his food mid-bite in order to respond. A feeling akin to anger flared up in her when she looked over to see that he still had barely eaten enough to be considered a full meal.<p>

He deserved to be able to eat his food undisturbed like any other ellon in the kingdom. With the constant worry of his vast responsibilities he did not need such foolishness distracting him when it was not necessary.

It was this feeling that compelled her to rise immediately after the dessert course was finished, anticipating that further demands on his time would be made. She thought nothing of interrupting Hannor as she turned to him, "My Lord, you requested my presence on a walk in your gardens this evening?"

Thranduil seemed surprised with her forwardness, but rose swiftly to his feet, "I did, Lady Mirwen, and I would like to take it now."

He reached his hand out in a practiced manner and Mirwen took it, the action feeling less nerve-wracking, and after their mutual bows to the gathered crowd, they slowly walked out of the hall together.

* * *

><p>Thranduil walked through the winding halls of the palace with his betrothed beside him. He hadn't let go of the gentle grasp of her hand, still holding it up as if they were still in need of being so ceremonial. There was no other reason to do it aside from the fact that touching her soft skin was immensely pleasing to him.<p>

He looked over at her face to see a small frown on it, and he found himself for the first time in a very long time concerned with what was bothering another. "You seem troubled, Mirwen, are you displeased with the walk?"

She looked up at him with her hazel eyes wide with surprise, "Oh, not at all, I was just...I was just thinking that I do not care for the fact that so many feel free to interrupt you as you dine. Last night you enjoyed three plates of food, and tonight, you barely had enough to satisfy a bird. You must still be famished."

Thranduil chuckled to himself, his stomach indeed still more than half empty, "It is the duty of a king to listen to all matters, unfortunately with no regard to the inconvenience it may cause."

"I understand, but, Thranduil, we are not at war. The discussions of the council was nothing that couldn't have waited until you had enjoyed your meal. You are no different than any other ellon who earns such a simple pleasure at the end of a long day."

Mirwen was truly surprised with her own candor, speaking to him with such ease, as if she had always done so.

"My betrothed is not happy with my council," he answered, a note of something that could have been teasing danced in his rich tone. "If it pleases you, I will no longer entertain conversation with them as I dine."

"Conversation, my Lord, is quite fine; but ridiculous politics I find to be quite unnecessary and another topic altogether."

"Thranduil," he corrected as he let a smile truly touch his lips. "And tomorrow evening, I shall let you tell the council of your first edict as a future queen of this realm."

Her cheeks flushed again as she stared bashfully down to the ground. "If you wish me to, I will."

"I do."

There was a slight pressure on the hand that he held, and Mirwen smiled softly at the squeeze of his fingers, walking on and keeping her hand right where it was.

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><p>The king's private gardens were in a secluded part of the massive caverns, in an area where the rock had been worn away by a steadily falling cascade of water. It created a natural skylight that let the stars and the light of the moon flood in to caress everything with a gentile glow. Mirwen breathed deep, the floral aroma so rich and intoxicating that she couldn't stop herself.<p>

Thranduil led them to a large bench in the middle of it all, right in front of the swiftly moving pool that was so cool and clear that she could see the bottom and feel the chill on her skin. She had never seen something so tranquil and beautiful, and the thought that they were alone here, away from all the chatter of the palace- it set her at peace.

Her eyes moved to a tall plant with wide green leaves and large, white star shaped blossoms that seemed to reach up to the sky above them. "It is a moon flower," he spoke softly, his deep voice beside her ear instantly sending a shiver of energy through her body. "They grew in Doriath, it was said that Luthien had been gifted one by Mandos himself in Valinor when she changed his heart with her song, and when she returned the blossoms endured in our land. My mother loved them, and my father found peace after she was gone in watching them grow."

His voice was somber at the mention of the king, and stranger yet of his mother. She had never once heard Oropher's wife discussed by anyone.

"They are exquisite," she said as she stared at his face, turned up to look at the stars that shone above them. The light bathing the strong lines of his profile, and making him somehow more beautiful than she thought possible. But there was such sadness in his clear blue eyes, and she could feel the distress in the powerful energy of his _fea_, so much so that hers began to reach out instinctively to bring him comfort in any way that she could.

She needed to understand.

"How did she leave our shores?"

His eyes closed and he breathed deeply, "I was young, just an elfling, her and my father had journeyed north- it was an orc pack. Foul creatures of Morgoth himself, my father and one of his guards were the only left to live. He did not get the chance to fare her well to the Halls of Mandos...and he never spoke of her again."

Mirwen felt tears fill her eyes at the grief in his voice, a pain that she knew had been held away from everyone, perhaps even from the father that he had cherished above all others. It took her long minutes before she found her voice, reaching out with her hands to take one of his, letting all of the calm that she could send from her _fea _through her body into him.

"He has found her again, Thranduil, they stand now in the light of the Illuvitar on green shores, and they will remain in peace, beyond the darkness, until you meet them." She had spoken the words without any thought at all. It was nothing but a simple prayer that her father had taught her when she was little more than an elfling, but it had always brought her comfort.

She wasn't sure just what she expected of him, but when she looked up from their joined hands, she found herself utterly lost. His crystal blue eyes, nearly half an age older than hers, opened up with a clarity that shamed the pure forest pool around them, and inside there was nothing of a king- simply an ellon who had seen too much grief.

His other hand came up slowly, reaching out for their clasped hands at first, then continuing up and to her face. Mirwen shivered as his elegant fingertips touched her cheek in the softest caress, sliding along her jaw before threading into her loose hair, gently brushing against her ear.

Her eyes closed of their own accord and she felt herself leaning into his hand. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and she had never been so frightened of anything in her life, but in the same breath, it was instinct alone that took over. Her _fea_ calling out to the companion that it craved for completion.

Mirwen felt the warmth of his breath against her face, and she blinked slowly to see his face before hers, his beautiful mouth moving closer. Her head tilted slowly, and her eyes closed again the moment that his lips met hers, claiming what no other had for only himself.

At the weight of his mouth on hers energy suddenly surged within her, dancing behind the lids of her eyes with a brightness that shamed the moon above them. What had at first been a feeling of nervousness that had taken her heart and sent it racing, slowly was replaced with a new sensation that she had never known before. It was an overwhelming desire, a _need_ and _want_ that made her refuse to pull her lips away from his.

"My Lord Thranduil!"

The moment around them was shattered into a million pieces at the sound of a guard's voice calling from the entrance of the garden room. Mirwen felt him pull his mouth from hers with an almost irritated sigh, his _fea_ radiating an almost possessive command as he rose from the bench, taking her with him- his hand still within hers.

"What news do you have to report to me that could not wait."

The guard bowed his head as the king walked them out of the seclusion of the moon flowers, and Mirwen felt sorry for the poor ellon who had the misfortune of interrupting them. She calmed her heart and sent that same energy into him, smiling when she felt him push back against it, his own energy demanding its own rule.

"Lord Thanduil I have been sent by Councilor Hannor, the guards at the border have sent word that the emissary from Imladris and Lothlorien have crossed into the Greenwood."

Thranduil nodded, "Very well, how long until they arrive?"

"It should be just before dawn."

He turned to her with a composed look on his face, and Mirwen fought to hide the disappointment at the blue eyes that stared at her now. They were closed off and guarded, the distance of his station walling off the emotion that he had given her a mere glimpse of. "Lady Mirwen, the guard will accompany you to your rooms, please prepare for our guests, and when you have I wish you to join me at my throne so we may greet them properly."

"Yes, of course, my Lord." She bowed her head gracefully and turned to depart, his face remaining an unreadable mask- but the slight squeeze of his hand as hers slipped away was enough for her to know that the stoic, distant look was not for her.

It was not until she was out of his presence, the strength of his _fea _gone from her, that she realized the enormity of what was about to happen. In little more than hours she would find herself presented as the betrothed of the King of the Woodland Realm to the Lord of Imladris and the Lady of Light herself.


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: Another week has passed already! I have been very busy this week and I wasn't sure that I was going to be able to update, but then tonight I just sat down and literally it wouldn't stop! And to be honest I couldn't be more pleased with it!**

**I am SO very happy to be able to give you another chapter, even though the next one might be a little wait thanks to the real world. Alas I cannot write for a living...need to pay those bills. But you never know...the reviews and the amazing support that this story has been getting has been utter inspiration...so thank you so much!**

**Please read and continue to review, favorite and follow! XOXOX**

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><p>What had started as a simple bit of nervousness at the arriving guests had turned into a feeling of panic by the time that Mirwen reached the doors of her rooms. Her hands were trembling as she stepped inside to see her mother running around with Tithen behind her trying to keep up. No sooner had she closed the door behind her when they both wheeled around to face her.<p>

"My daughter, you must bathe and prepare for the arrival, Tithen, you may go now to prepare yourself."

Lhindis' usually graceful and calm tone was laced with breathless anticipation as she dismissed her companion, and Mirwen could do little but nod as she was whisked into the side room where the soaking tub was already filled with lavender scented water. She worried little of modesty as she removed her dress and slip before stepping into the bath.

She smoothed her skin with a gentle sponge, trying to let the warmth calm her thoughts. It would not do for her to be so out of sorts, but no matter how she tried to let her mind relax she couldn't get past the realization that in mere hours she would have to stand for the first time with her betrothed as the queen that she would be.

She would stand before the oldest and wisest of all the elves left within the boundaries of this Middle Earth- and how would they see her? After all she was nothing but a lowly Silvan elf, she spoke the more refined Sindarin language of her betrothed with a terrible accent in her voice, and the majestic Quenya of Lady Gladriel's Noldor heritage- she could barely speak a sentence.

There was a knot of utter nervousness in her stomach that she had never felt before, not even before sitting beside him tonight. She had been able to hold her head high tonight to sit at the dining table and address the council, it had been frightening at first, but with Thranduil beside her- it had come to her with little trouble. She was still trying to reason with herself as to whether it had been something that she had accomplished of her own doing or if it was the combined influence of their _fea _energy that had made it possible.

But whatever had been the cause, her mother walking into the room with a dress in her arms had all but chased the thoughts away.

"I have just the gown for you to wear, my daughter. I have not worn it for many years, but the color will be perfect for you."

Mirwen slowly rose from the water to softly towel off her skin before making her way over to where her mother had hung up a very beautiful dress made of a deep orange color, so rich it almost seemed to look like the forest leaves in the fall. The flowing sleeves and wide neckline were embroidered with silver thread, and it suddenly dawned on her that Thranduil had a formal and very voluminous cape that was lined with the very same color.

She dressed in a simple silken slip before sliding on the gown, frowning slightly when she realized that her mother's slender measurements had caused the dress to fit a bit more snugly in the bodice than she would have liked.

Lhindis seemed to notice her fidgeting, standing behind her with an appraising eye, "It fits you perfectly, you have the healthy form of a Silvan elleth of breeding age, you should not hide it."

Mirwen's brow rose as her mother coaxed her to sit at the small vanity so she could comb through her long brown hair. It had been something that she had enjoyed doing since she was a youngling, and it always soothed her nerves.

"I do not wish to appear in a way that will look poorly on my king," she finally said.

Her mother turned her head and tilted her chin up, "You are your father's daughter, Mirwen, you could not appear in a way that would bring the king anything but honor. You have made us proud as your parents from the moment you entered this world."

Mirwen smiled softly under her praise, "Thank you, _nana, _it is all I have ever wanted to do is make you and _ada_ proud."

"And that you have." Lhindis said as she released her chin to reach forward onto the small vanity to open a lined jewelry case. Inside was a hairpiece that had belonged to her grandmother, the delicate piece was made of silver, pounded into a winding mass of leaves that would fall the length of her hair. It had always been something that Mirwen had loved as an elfling- and she'd been promised that when the time came she would wear it as well.

Her mother wove the intricate hairpiece into her loose waves, her fingers nimble as she set it in, making sure that it was perfectly balanced on the back of her head. Their eyes met in the mirror as she finally pulled her hands away, a look of pride and fondness brimming in her smile, "You are perfect."

"Thank you, _nana,_" Mirwen said as she rose to her feet. A strange pull bloomed deep within her chest, and the sudden pressure and intensity gave her pause. Her eyes closed and her hand rose to her heart as the feeling seemed to strengthen and then ebb away. She let out a slow breath and her eyes fluttered open to meet her mother's very interested stare.

"I am sorry, I do not know what came over me," she said as her heart fluttered again. "I feel so...strange." Mirwen rose her head to see her mother looking at her with a fond smile, her green eyes misting with tears.

"It is the call that you are feeling," Lhindis explained, "The pull of his _fea _to yours_, _a connection that will only grow once you have joined." She paused for a moment and Mirwen felt almost scrutinized under her stare before she stated simply, "He has kissed you."

Her face flushed instantly and her heart raced out of her control, "He has...it was tonight, but it has happened only once."

The moment she spoke about it her body was consumed with the memory- the press of his soft mouth on hers, the feeling of his hand on her face and against her delicate ear- she shivered.

Her response was not missed.

"It is like no other feeling, and when you are united as one- it is a gift from the Valar themselves," her mother said with a smile.

Mirwen could not believe that she was speaking about such a thing, but the unfamiliar racing of her heart was so strange she felt compelled to do it. "It is like nothing I have known, I do not understand it. Even now I want to go to him, to be near him...is it, will it always be like this?"

She laughed softly, "It is different for all bonded pairs, some have love in different ways for each other. But your father and I did not leave our rooms for a month after our marriage feast. Your begetting day was during that time."

An elfling.

Mirwen smiled softly, in all of the fluster and excitement in her body at the thought of what it would be like to be with Thranduil in his private quarters for a month with no interruptions, she had forgotten that she may very well conceive in a week's time.

And with the noted prowess and strength of the Sindarin elves, she was quite sure that the king would have an heir.

Her blush must have given her away, because her mother laughed softly before taking her hands, "He may be a king, my daughter, but he is an ellon first and foremost. I imagine that his council will dare not interrupt your peace until you have a little piece of Eru's magic growing inside you."

Mirwen could only smile as she squeezed her hands, unsure of just what she should say to her mother, but at the same time feeling an immense sense of gratitude at the fact that her utter terror at the prospect of their impending visitors had all but disappeared for the moment.

Lhindis merely leaned forward to kiss her gently on her forehead before gently smiling, knowing her thoughts and fears as only a mother could, "Hold your head up high, my daughter, tonight you stand before those who enter our Greenwood as a proud Silvan and our future queen. Now, there is no need for you to wait around in our quarters before our guests arrive. Go to your betrothed, I imagine he would need the company."

"Yes, _nana_," Mirwen answered as she released her hands with one last squeeze before she turned and walked out towards the halls.

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><p>Mirwen walked the quiet halls of the palace as she walked towards Thranduil's study and private quarters. No sooner had she turned the corner than she saw the crowd of his council walking out of the oak doors with a raucous level of volume. She stopped just out of sight to hear them loudly discussing a flurry of matters regarding the upcoming arrival, and when they passed out of sight she openly frowned.<p>

Thranduil had not even a moment's peace tonight. She quickly called the attention of an attendant who was following behind the crowd, asking them confidently for a tray of food for the king. He hadn't eaten his fill at the dinner meal, and there was no telling with the distractions that he would face when he would be able to enjoy a rest again.

With the hallways finally quiet she approached the doors, knocking once before hearing his tired and irritated, "Enter."

She found him standing at the large oak table in the corner of the room as he adjusted the collar of his luxurious silver coat. The woven crown of green summer leaves was upon his head once again. She smiled at the voluminous robe that lay draped over the chair beside him, it was the same one that was lined with a silken fabric that matched the color of her dress. How her mother seemed to know these things was something that was far beyond her imagination.

Thranduil's clear blue eyes flickered up of a moment, his stern expression seeming to change to one of surprise as soon as he recognized that she was the one who was standing at his door.

"Lady Mirwen?" He questioned as he stared at her, his eyes filling with the same hunger that had been inside them in the garden.

She smiled softly as the door closed behind her, "Mirwen, Thranduil, we are alone."

His lip quirked, "For a moment that will not last nearly long enough."

A soft knock on the door behind her had him frowning again, but Mirwen turned instinctively to open it. The attendant bowed as best as they could with a large tray of food and a warm tea pot resting on top. She gently took the heavy platter and dismissed the attendant with a graceful nod of her head.

"What interruption is this?" Thranduil questioned as he walked to join her, reaching out to take the tray and carrying it to the same small table that they had dined on the previous night.

"You did not have a chance to enjoy your dinner, and I wanted to make sure that when our guests arrive you are able to be as comfortable as possible."

He lifted the tray to see an arrangement of fruits, cheeses, jams, creamed butter, a loaf of still warm bread, and lastly a pot of the nettle and mint tea that he always enjoyed in the morning.

She had done this for him.

There was a strange feeling inside him as he stared at the simple meal and the beautiful elleth that had procured it for no other reason other than her concern for his need. Thranduil was unsure of just what feeling coursed in his body, he was used to having his needs met and being served; but he was not used to someone providing for him without it being their duty to do so.

He looked up to notice her watching him with her wide lovely eyes, her delicate hands nervously clasped in front of her, and her full lower lip worried by her teeth. She was concerned with how he would take her actions, and yet, he could think of nothing at all but how best to show her how grateful he was.

Of course the more he stared at her soft pink lips the more his traitorous body remembered the kiss he had taken from her in his gardens. It had been the single most compelling thing he had ever felt in his long years. A surge of desire and need took over his body at the simple touch- it made him want to covet her like the exquisite jewel she was.

Thranduil shook his head softly to chase away the thought as he finally replied, "You did not have to see to me, Mirwen...but I am thankful that you did. You must join me."

He gestured for her to sit in the empty chair next to him as he sat down and filled his plate. Thranduil thought to stand on ceremony, before remembering that he had asked her the other evening to avoid such a thing, and in the end it was his stomach that dictated the pace at which he ate. He tore off a large piece of warm bread slathering it with sweet creamed butter and a tart preserve before devouring it in a couple of inelegant mouthfuls.

He looked up after a few more moments and a now completely clean plate to watch as she set down an earthenware mug to pour him a cup of tea. He reached over for a cloth to wipe his mouth and he cleared his throat with a very uncharacteristic feeling of nervousness, "Are you going to have any? Do not want to eat my fill and leave you with none."

Mirwen blushed as she smiled, "I had more than my stomach required at dinner, you did not. I want you to eat, Thranduil. Do not concern yourself with my appetite, I am not shy when it comes to matters of my stomach."

To further emphasize the point she took one of the round, ripe grapes that was on the silver tray and popped it into her mouth, sighing as she bit down to enjoy the burst of sweet juice.

He smiled as he watched her chewing, his smooth voice filling the silence between them when he spoke cryptically, "There is also the matter of that."

"Of what?" She replied curiously, reaching out to pour herself a cup of tea.

"If you do not help yourself I do not get the privilege of watching you dine."

Mirwen paused as her face flushed further, the heat spreading down to stain her exposed throat and décolletage a bright red. She tried to collect herself, picking up her tea to sip at it, her eyes staying fixed on the table. "I am sure that there are more interesting things you could watch."

Thranduil sat back in his chair as he stared at her, his eyes following the color that bloomed across her beautiful skin. He wanted to paint more of the enticing shade, his wandering mind contemplating the lovely prospect of whether every inch of her could color so perfectly.

"Not at all," he answered, "I have had the benefit of seeing it for almost a year now each evening, and I can say with impunity that there is nothing that intrigues me more."

Her hand clenched into a fist, and he did not miss the way he felt her _fea_ surge, or the way his immediately answered with a power of its own. Suddenly everything between them seemed to crystalize- he could hear her heart racing and the excited puffs of air that escaped her parted lips, he could smell the sweet grape on her breath and the way it mingled with the wild perfume of the forest that always clung to her...

He was powerless as pure instinct took control of his body, making him stand from his chair and reach out with his hand to cup her cheek, compelling her to stand. He was a head taller than her, and the sense of standing over her was something that he realized he was fast enjoying. Thranduil watched as her wide hazel eyes met his, a look of both fear and longing swirling in their depths.

"Though, this, is fast becoming something that I am very intrigued in, Mirwen."

He felt her shiver as he reached out with his other hand to take her waist, pulling her close. The last time that he had been pressed this near to her body he had been furious with her, and he reasoned that this mood felt far more pleasing.

Her eyes fluttered closed and he stared at her mouth, memorizing every shape and form of the lovely pink petals, and when her chin tilted back ever so slightly he knew that he wanted nothing more than to taste the sweetness that he was smelling. Thranduil lowered his head slowly, making sure not to frighten her, his own eyes closing as his lips met hers.

Mirwen drew a sharp breath in through her nose, her hands lifting up from where they had been at her side to rest against his chest tentatively. The fabric of his fine clothes was soft against her fingers, and she could feel the utter warmth of his strong body even through the layers.

Her heart was pounding so hard she could feel it throughout her body, centering in a low cramp that made her dizzy with the same sensation she had felt earlier. Energy raced through her and she gasped out in surprise when his lips parted slowly; she mirrored the gesture, unsure of what to do...and when she felt the warmth of his moist tongue slip between her lips she truly was lost.

She had never known that a kiss was meant to be like this. He seemed to taste her, his tongue tracing hers, gently and patiently coaxing until she felt compelled to do the same to him. He pulled her closer, his hand tighter on her waist, and the one on her cheek slid back so that he could cup her neck.

Mirwen couldn't help it as her hands slid up the length of his broad chest, reaching his shoulders and finally- tentatively- she reached up to touch his face. Her fingers tangled in his long beautiful blonde hair, minding the twining branches of his crown, and she marveled at the fact that the fine strands shamed the softest silk that she had ever felt.

She was spellbound at the taste of his mouth and the feel of his hair, wanting to explore further still she reached up to stroke the delicate lines of his ears. They were less pointed than her own, his heritage making them more rounded and less pronounced. She was enraptured as she traced the shell with her fingertips, missing the way his body shifted...finally when she barely touched the tips she gasped out loud as he growled lowly in his throat.

His _fea _surged at her with an overwhelming force as his tongue plunged deep into her mouth, his strong hand dug into her hip before he pulled his mouth away, his chest heaving as he rested his forehead against hers.

"You must stop, Mirwen...you must not..."

His voice was husky and deep, the rich sound making her dizzy, "I am sorry, my Lo...Thranduil...I did not mean to offend you...I..."

"Look at me," he said, the command in his voice making her eyes instantly open to be lost in the fathomless pools of his. "You have caused me no offence, you have...you have _entranced_ me. I cannot bear to feel your touch for a moment longer, if you do I fear I cannot stop myself...you call to me, Mirwen. I would bind to you now in words as we stand here, alone, I need no feast, _an ngell nin_..."

She felt such complete confusion as he stayed close to her. Her mind telling her that his confession of such a thought should scare her, that it was against everything that they were as the Eldar to submit to an emotion as weak and mortal as lust- and yet her _fea _was pulling her body closer to his. As if it knew that it took no ceremony for a wedding, it took nothing more than a pledge between two and the blessing of Eru Illuvitar alone before the physical joining united them for all time.

It was the practical side of her mind that won out and finally came out of the haze, "We cannot, Thranduil. You..._we_ have a duty to the Greenwood. You are the king, you must -"

The change was instant in him. His body straightened and he stepped back, the abruptness leaving her with her hands in the air as confusion filled her face. Mirwen stared at him as she watched his face harden into a cold mask that she had not seen since that night she had been called to his chambers after returning from the forest.

"I must do nothing by your order!" He spoke with a harsh tone, "I am a king."

"Thranduil?"

"You forget my title, Lady."

Mirwen felt the harsh coldness as his _fea _pulled sharply away from hers, leaving her with a sensation of loss that she had never experienced. It was as if the early summer breeze around them had suddenly taken on the bite of winter's first frost.

Her voice was hoarse and lost for a moment before she answered him, the hurt and confusion barely hidden behind the words that she knew were the only ones that she could say, "Yes, forgive me, my Lord."

Thranduil coolly straightened his body and turned to walk past her and back to the main part of his study, turning only to speak to her back, "We will meet our guests as we should, you will join me in the throne room, now."

She nodded, her fists clenching as her body still reeled from the emotions that assailed her. Mirwen fought against the tears that stung, refusing to let them show. She did not know what she had done, or what had happened, she could still feel the press of his lips on her swollen ones and the memory of his hands on her body...and now it was as if none of it had ever happened.

It was as if she was still standing in front of him one year ago receiving her betrothal ring with no feeling and no sentiment.

She finally manage to steel her emotion and turned around to see him put on the voluminous cape and take up the ornate oak staff that was the last representation of his station. He walked to the middle of the room and looked at her, the stern expression commanding all the power of the King of the Woodland Realm.

It was no longer Thranduil.

"Come," he said sternly as he turned and walked toward the doors, not bothering to wait to see where or whether she was even behind him.

A single tear fell down her cheek before Mirwen followed, her _fea_ still calling out to his, and her heart heavy when she did not feel him call back.

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><p><em>Elvish Vocabulary:<em>

_an ngell ni- please (literally 'for my joy')_


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: I am so sorry for the delay! Please forgive me! But I promise that I am back!**

**I have left a couple little tributes in this chapter, I want to see who can find them. One is obvious, and the other is a little use of some words that tie to a character all LOTR fans love ; ).**

**So without further ado I give you a chapter that I definitely should edit but am too eager to give to you all...I will fix it if necessary!**

**Please, please reviews are love...and we all need love! XOXOX**

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><p>She would not succumb to the emotions that assailed her.<p>

She refused to show weakness.

Mirwen fought to banish the tears that burned in her eyes as she walked through the winding corridors of the palace. She held her head up high, her hands balled into tight fists as she stared at the back of her betrothed. His tall crown and the acres of billowing fabric made him look like the ethereally regal king that he was.

But she could not feel him. Despite her insistent and attempted control of her desires, her _fea_ was still completely unsettled and it desperately reached out to feel the comfort of his again. What had been a wonderful flutter in her heart only hours ago had begun to ache in her chest. She did not know how to make it stop.

Her lips were still tingling from his kiss, and she could still feel the smooth sensation of his tongue against hers. She had never felt anything like that before...

As if she were broadcasting her thoughts, Mirwen noticed that Thranduil's hand tightened around the carved oak staff that he was carrying. It was a realization that helped her somewhat feel better about her confused state- he _was_ still feeling something, despite the absence of his _fea_ reaching out.

Though that realization began to confuse her even more. He had been so passionate, so compelling and powerful in his words- she had wanted nothing more than to do as he said. She wanted to take the vows that would bond them at that moment, and by the Valar, she had wanted nothing more than to let him take her into his arms and into his bed and make her his for all eternity.

She had only stopped him because she knew that whatever he was feeling, it had been because of the emotion of the moment. He had thrown aside the weight of his kingdom and his crown, caring nothing for the things that he always held with such high regard as his father's heir. If he had married her in secret, and joined with her, it would have been written all over them when they presented themselves in front of their guests and their people.

She refused to let him endure the regret that he would feel when he realized his harsh decision. She would not let him stand in front of the Lords of elvendom on Earth with his station diminished.

So she had done the responsible thing, she had thought of his kingdom and people before her wants...though she realized that she may have also ignored his pride. Mirwen stared at the rigid set of his shoulders as he effortlessly walked, and she knew what she had done. He had laid bare the ever present walls and control that he always possessed, and he had been vulnerable before her, giving in to his desire- and she had rejected him.

Though his boorish behavior certainly made giving an apology among the last things in the world that she wanted to do. Because she may have wounded his pride, but she did it _for_ him. The way he had spoken to her however, was not fit for any subject of the Greenwood- let alone the betrothed that he was to be bonded to in a day's time.

A_ day's_ time.

Mirwen's heart raced at the realization- their marriage ceremony was only a day away. How was she to bond to him with this sort of discontent between them? It was not done like this among elves, both of them had to want it...could she really be married to all eternity to a ellon who changed his mind like the wind?

Whatever thoughts were swirling like a torrent in her head were instantly silenced when they approached the center of the main hall and the imposing, intricately carved throne. Thranduil passed the armored guards that lined the stone walkway, each one remaining perfectly still, and Mirwen followed him, noticing that their eyes followed her from within their ornate helmets.

He finally stopped walking at the foot of the oak hewn staircase, turning his head to address her with that same cold tone he had used in his study, "You will stand at my side as I sit on the throne, as you are not queen yet it is improper have you sit."

"Yes, my Lord."

Mirwen's answer was as remote and cold as his tone, and she did not miss the way that his glacial blue eyes narrowed. She ignored the way her instinct told her to behave, to submit to the authority of her king, instead she held her head high, her eyes locked on his and her stare unwavering.

He paused for a moment, his body turning towards her in the slightest move before he swung around and climbed the stairs to his throne.

* * *

><p>Thranduil sat on his throne, his body tense as he stared forwards at the entrance of the hall. His hand gripped his staff to the point that he thought it would break and his jaw was actually beginning to ache from the pressure that he was exerting to clench his teeth together. But all of that paled in comparison to the overwhelming energy call of his <em>fea<em> to join and the unbearable arousal that had had the span of flesh between his legs harder than the very ancient stone his halls were hewn from.

He was thankful for the yards of fabric that surrounded him, the layers of his robes managing to keep his utter weakness concealed.

And it was weakness.

Even now he was furious with the Silvan temptress that stood beside him. He had no control when he had taken her mouth with his in his study, the only thing is his singular thoughts was that he had to kiss her again- thoroughly this time, and with no interruption. By Eru, he had...and he was now lost because of it.

He had behaved no better than a simple minded creature- the touch, taste and feel of her so divine that he had forgotten who he was. For a simple moment he had the same wants as any other of his kingdom, of taking his betrothed into the forest under the canopy of stars that the wood elves cherished so, speaking his vows to the Illuvitar before joining with her amidst the green leaves of the dawning summer.

He had cast aside the weight of his father's crown- and she was the one of them to regain their senses and put a stop to it. And it was that he was furious with most of all. That she had made him forsake the kingdom that his father had loved until his soul left this world for the other.

What right did she have to command him! He was a king!

But even now as his pride warred with his lust, he could not stop the way his skin tingled with need as her _fea_ reached out trying to touch his. He could feel her...and she was calling to him. A grimace twisted his lips as he sardonically thought that in a mere day's time she would be his bonded mate, if this was the measure of his resolve now, there would be nothing left of it at all after they said the words.

"My Lord!"

The loud voice of Ferin, the Captain of his Guard called out from the entrance to the chamber shattering the turmoil. He retreated instantly behind the invisible wall that he always put between him and his subjects before he spoke.

"Yes, what news have you for me."

"They have nearly reached the gates of the palace."

"Very well," Thranduil dismissed with a nod. "Gather the members of the council and the Lady Mirwen's parents, I would have them be here before they arrive."

"As you command, my King."

He watched as the young guard swiftly turned and walked into the palace to retrieve the others. Thranduil shifted in his seat, forcing away the emotions and regaining his control. Long years had passed since he had seen Elrond of Imladris, and he had been but an elfling in his mother's arms when he had met the Lady Galadriel and Celeborn in Doriath. He would meet them now as his father's son and a king in his own right.

His eyes cast a sideways glance to see that Mirwen was still standing perfectly still like a graceful statue, her eyes fixed forward. There was nothing to betray her but a flash of her throat as she breathed in a trembling breath. And despite the frustration that still assailed him Thranduil smiled inwardly- she was already a queen.

* * *

><p>Mirwen wondered if the brave warriors of the Last Alliance had felt the same fear at the sight of the Nameless One and the hordes of Mordor as she was feeling now. She knew it was an absolutely foolish thought that had no merit whatsoever...but as she watched the members of his council and her parents arrive to stand beneath his throne- it certainly felt real.<p>

It was only the calm, reassuring look that her father cast up at her that made her finally gather up her dignity. He had sacrificed much in his long life in service to the Greenwood, and it was her duty to represent that and all of the Silvan elves.

It was not long until the sound of voices gently floated into the great hall, echoing off the vast walls as the envoy finally approached. Mirwen stood transfixed as Thranduil rose from beside her to stand to his full height, the sheer power and potency he radiated made her unconsciously mirror the gesture- gaining strength from that alone.

There was a group of twenty of the legendary Galadrhim guard of Lothlorien, dressed in grey robes with their massive bows beside them. At the head of the group was a young blonde ellon and Mirwen did not miss the look of pride and a slight bit of arrogance on his handsome face, no doubt new in his position of authority.

The guards slowly stepped aside to show the hooded figures of four in the center of the group. Her eyes were transfixed as she watched them all remove the hoods of their lavish robes, their bodies seeming to glow in the darkness of the early morning hall. Though after looking a moment longer Mirwen could not believe what she was seeing with her keen elf eyes- it was a pure white light that surrounded the elleth in the white cloak. And when she looked upon her face, she knew that she was beholding the Lady Galadriel herself.

She was taller and more fair than any elleth Mirwen had seen before, and her hair was such a luxurious golden color that even her betrothed's fine blonde hair could be found wanting in comparison. Next to her was a handsome warrior ellon with a depth of knowledge and quiet power in the strong lines of his face. He looked like the Sindarin blood that Thranduil and Oropher had come from. Beside them was an elleth that looked more of her own age, her beauty was almost that of the lady herself, with the same white blonde hair of the older ellon and the same deep grey eyes.

Finally Mirwen's eyes fell on the dark, tall ellon as he lifted her head to take her in. His hair was as black as a moonless sky, and his eyes were a rich sapphire blue. They interested her, seeming to be more expressive than the eyes of most elves that she had seen in her life. But there was no mistaking the strength and intelligence that they possessed.

"Thranduil Oropherion, King of the Greenwood and the Woodland realm," he spoke loud and clear in the hall as he raised his hand to his heart in greeting. "_Mae g'ovannen._"

Mirwen watched as Thranduil tilted his crowned head in a slight nod of acknowledgement before he moved past her to descend the staircase towards them. She followed behind, trying to remember her grace and at the same time minding the fabric of his seemingly endless robes that billowed around him.

He stopped in front of the dark haired ellon and nodded again as he touched his hand to his heart, "Welcome, Elrond of Imladris."

Elrond nodded and stepped back as the Lady herself and her companion came forwards. Mirwen watched in surprise as Thranduil's hand rose to his chest again, this time his body stepping back and bending as he gave a graceful bow.

"Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel, welcome to _Eryn Galen. _You honor me with your presence."

"The honor is shared, Thranduil Oropherion." Lord Celeborn said, his voice deep and measured.

Thranduil nodded smoothly at his praise, turning as the Lady Galadriel watched him with her clear blue eyes before smiling softly. Her graceful hand reached up to gently brush her fingers against his chin. "Long years has it been since I have seen you last. You now have the look of your father," she paused as she stared at his face a strange tone threading into her voice. "This bonding will do you well."

He nodded deeply again before Celeborn spoke, "May I also present the Lady Celebrinian, our daughter, and the wife of Elrond."

The beautiful blonde elleth walked forwards to bow her head reverently as her dainty hand touched her chest, "I am an honored guest in your realm, my Lord."

"The honor is mine, Lady Celebrinian," Thranduil replied.

It happened in an instant and it was completely out of her control. Mirwen felt a surge of jealousy as her betrothed looked at the beautiful elleth in front of him. She was everything that Thranduil should have been bonded to as a regal Sindarin elf, and suddenly the realization that she was nothing more than a simple Silvan before royalty made her feel like an impostor in her mother's old dress and her grandmother's antique hairpiece.

Her thoughts raced through her mind as her eyes fell to her feet. She managed to get them under control a moment later, raising her stare and suddenly finding herself locking eyes with none other than the Lady Galadriel herself. There was a strange feeling that flowed through her mind, it disappeared a moment later, just as a coy smile touched the lady's lips.

"Allow me to present my betrothed before you," Thranduil said as he turned to focus the attention of the group solely on her. Mirwen instantly rose her chin and stood as poised as she could. "This is the Lady Mirwen Aradaniel, daughter of my General of the Woodland Armies."

Mirwen instantly rose her hand to her chest, bowing deeply before them, "I am humbled to stand in your presence, my Lords and my Ladies."

"You need not feel humbled, Lady Mirwen," Elrond said with a genuine smile. "A bonding feast for our woodland kin is a merriment that is an honor to attend. In this hard won peace we must celebrate those moments of joy."

She felt herself smiling back at him, and nodding her head in agreement. Once again the Lady's eyes were on her and Mirwen could not help the strange feeling within her head. She was unsure if she should say anything else in conversation, but any thought of it was instantly ended when Thranduil spoke, his voice noticeably changed from the amicable tone he had just used.

"Let us move to the banquet hall to break fast in a morning meal, you must be weary from your journey. I will see to it that your rooms are prepared to receive you for rest when we have finished dining."

* * *

><p>Normally the morning meal would have seen Mirwen eating her fill and then some, it had always been her favorite meal of the day. But with the nerves that she was feeling at the massive table were enough to keep her appetite peckish at best. Thankfully the ever present chatter of Councelor Hannor and Counselor Gwythion was enough to distract her.<p>

She was seated between Thranduil and Lord Elrond, and she noticed that Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel were seated beside her betrothed, and that he spent most of his time discussing his father and his memories of Doriath with the Lord of Lothlorien.

Elrond's beautiful wife sat beside him, and although she was far enough away from Thranduil that Mirwen was able to keep her unexplained feelings of jealousy at bay- the dainty way that she was eating the same amount as a bird made her want to do the same.

"Your hand, my Lady." Elrond spoke from beside her, and Mirwen turned her head to the unexpected conversation.

"Forgive me, my Lord, I missed your question."

He reached out to take her hand and turned it palm up, examining the thin line of the cut that she had gotten on the shard of the goblet a few nights ago. "You have injured your hand."

"Oh," her face reddened as he lifted it to stare more closely at the thin line that to her unskilled eyes was perfectly healed. "It was a careless accident, I cut my hand on a piece of crystal."

"Indeed you did," he said as he examined it. "It was a goblet of Dorwinion wine was it not?"

"It was."

"Your healer used a salve and a tea of lady's mantle, however the leaves have been dried for too long. I have a poultice that will alleviate the scar completely. I will be sure to get it to you so that you may use it tonight to have the hand free on your wedding day."

"Oh, I...why thank you, My Lord," Mirwen answered as she took her hand back. She returned to her meal and as she looked down at her plate she nearly doubled over as her entire body was overwhelmed with a surge of energy. It was Thranduil's _fea_ and there was no mistaking the emotion behind it.

It was a furious and possessive jealousy.

She was almost frightened when she turned her head to meet his eyes, and when his cerulean eyes seemed to bore into her she had to look away. She could not bear the way he was using his very spirit to show her how strong and powerful that he was, sending her own into a chaotic frenzy that she could not control.

She did not know how she managed to finish her meal. Conversation all around her was relegated to a sound no different than that of buzzing insects, and when the guests retired to their rooms to rest, she managed to slip away. She did not think, and before she knew where she was, a bow from the archery range was in her hand, a hood was covering her face, and her feet were already running out into the forest.

* * *

><p>Mirwen walked out amongst the trees until she came to a small glade of trees where the warm sun shone through. Beside a small stream, one of the tributaries of the great Forest River that was the heart of the Greenwood, was where she finally found peace. She sat down on a mound of soft grass, placing her quiver beside her against the same great oak tree that she leaned against, and after curling in between the large roots on the soft loam of green leaves she closed her eyes and let herself rest.<p>

* * *

><p>Thranduil was not in the mood to receive guests or pander to his council. After the morning meal he had effectively barricaded himself into his study where he drank a flask of his favorite vintage and stewed in his irritation until the sun began to lower in the sky.<p>

She was taunting him now. His betrothed had willfully caroused with that bookish excuse for a real warrior. Elrond had held her hand in front of him and in front of his table. Had she any care at all for how she taunted and insulted him?

He was practically growling in anger when a hesitant knock echoed through the large room. He stood up, tossing off his heavy outer robe as he stalked to the door and pulled it open, barking his disapproval to a poor guard that had been assigned to watch Lady Mirwen.

"My King...I...your..."

"My what." Thranduil said, softening slightly at the ellon's immense discomfort.

"Your betrothed...she's not...she's not in her rooms."

His jaw clenched so tight that he thought his very teeth had risk of breaking, and he managed to speak his words slowly, "When did you see her last?"

The ellon's face blanched before he lowered his eyes, "I thought I had seen her walk into her rooms this morning after the meal, but I fear it was the Lady Lhindis I saw. My Lord I do not think she returned to her rooms. I submit to the dungeons for my punishment if you will it, I will of course assist in looking for-"

"You will do nothing." Thranduil snapped. "My dungeon cells are for those trespassing in my lands, you will count the blessings of the Valar that I do not see fit to punish you. You will tell no one of this- I will go after Lady Mirwen myself- you are dismissed to the kitchens to assist them for the remainder of the day."

He turned and slammed the door, practically running back to his private rooms, his long legs making the journey in a short time. He stripped off the ornate long coat that he was wearing, grabbing a dusky grey tunic before strapping on his sword belt and donning a long green cloak. His keen senses were already searching for her as he sprinted out of the hidden tunnels of his hall and into the forest.

* * *

><p>She sensed it before her body could feel it.<p>

A deep dream couldn't keep her _fea _from waking to the pull of its calling mate. In one fluid move she rose from her protected nest within the roots of the tree, nocking an arrow as she whirled and drew back her bow- ready to fire.

Her chest was heaving as her energy radiated through her, and she stared down the shaft of her arrow to see the pointed tip mere inches from the blazing stare of her betrothed husband. Thranduil sneered at her, a pure rage surging into every muscle in his body, and it was then that she realized that his sword was drawn out of its scabbard and it was held in a way that could be mistaken for nothing else but a sign of attack.

"You would dare to raise your weapon to your King!" He snarled furiously, "In my kingdom, my laws are followed without reproach! As my queen you _will_ behave as I see fit and submit to my rule -"

"I will do NOTHING!" Mirwen shouted back before she could censure her raging emotions. "I am not an animal to command! I am of the Eldar as are you!"

She could feel tears pricking at her eyes as her _fea_ fell out of balance with her body, the unease and grief threatening to overwhelm her. But she had to speak, she had to get this out.

"How am I to bond with you! You claim to me that I am free to call you by your name, and then you use your title to remind me that I am nothing more than a lowly Silvan elf beneath you!"

"You _refused_ me, and today I see you speak freely and enjoy the attentions of another to make me jealous!"

"Is that what you think?!" She lowered her bow as she stared at him, the traitorous tears finally falling from her eyes. "You think that I refused you."

"There is no other truth to the situation."

Mirwen shook her head slowly, "No, there are many truths to the situation, my Lord. I did not want you to have to wake up to the sun after letting emotion steal away your thoughts with the realization that your guests would know that you had married in secret. I wanted you to be able to be praised with the station that you have earned as your father's heir. " Her eyes fell to the grass and green leaves all around them, "Because if you were to know the deepest secret of my heart...I would have taken those vows, happily, my Lord. I wanted nothing more."

She watched as he sheathed his blade with a lightning fast thrust before he reached up to take her face into his hands. His elegant fingers threaded into the soft curls of her hair as he gently pressed her against the tall form of the oak tree. He brought his mouth down to hers as his thumbs tenderly wiped away the tears that fell from her wide eyes.

"Thranduil," he whispered. "From this day until the end of all days please, Mirwen, call me nothing else."

Whatever words that she had meant to reply to him were stolen as his mouth hungrily took hers. This time there was no hesitancy in either of them, her bow dropped to the grass as her hands came up to rest against his strong chest, grasping at his tunic. His tongue delved between her lips and she accepted it eagerly, sighing as every bit of the sadness washed away under the wave of their entwining _fea_.

It no longer felt like discord and confusion- it felt like a divine gift.

Thranduil pulled his mouth slightly back from hers as he leaned into her further, feeling no shame and no frustration as he pressed against her delicate form, letting her feel the very physical evidence of his arousal. He rested his forehead against hers, reveling in the warm pants of her breath on his lips.

He watched as her eyes fluttered open and he stared at her, his voice dropping to a deep husky tone, "I will wait until we are bonded my wild Silvan queen, and then I will take you into the forest that you love so and join with you on a bower of soft grass and green summer leaves under the watch of the stars. "

Mirwen trembled at his words, her hands tightening their grip on his tunic, "Thranduil..."

A loud grumble suddenly broke the moment between them and Mirwen's face flushed bright red when she realized that it was her stomach that had made the noise. She had been so foolish this morning that she had barely eaten anything, and she had slept away the midday meal in the forest.

He smirked as his brow rose, "Is my betrothed regretting the way she ate barely enough for a bird today?"

Mirwen laughed softly at the teasing way that he had turned her own words back on her, "I am."

"Then come, dine with me tonight, I will even invite our guests provided only my hands touch yours."

"As long as your eyes do not stray to a beautiful elleth that may grace the table."

His head cocked sharply as he grinned, "My eyes will not leave a beautiful elleth tonight, I promise you that."

* * *

><p><em>Elvish Vocabulary:<em>

_Eryn Galen- Greenwood the Great, one of the original Elvish names of the forest_


	10. Chapter 10

**AN: Oh my another update for you all! I wasn't sure just how I was going to make this work in with all the events of the wedding, because as you will see there is definitely a fair bit of talk and chat about things that will come to have an immeasurable effect on both Thranduil and Mirwen in the future. **

**So long story short (pun intended) I decided that it needed its own little chapter.**

**Another quick note: I have decided to mess with the timeline as far as the birthdate of Legolas is concerned. I have set this story in the early part of the third age, and Tolkien never gave a specific date for his birth. PJ had said it was in year TA 87 for no particular reason...but I am moving it to coincide with the established birth date of Elrond's twins Elladan and Elrohir in TA 130. I don't know why but in my head I always thought Legolas was around their age.**

**And quite frankly there is a big hole in this time so...hey I wanna do it like this!**

**I hope that you all enjoy this little bit, and I hope to be on to the long awaited wedding chapter next week.**

**Please, please read and review. The words that you all have been leaving me have been incredibly inspiring and I cannot tell you how much it means to me. Please keep them coming! : ) XOXO**

**Letting this out a little rough, because you all deserve a chapter!**

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><p>For all the discord and upheaval that had been their relationship up until that moment in the forest, Mirwen could not believe how wonderful she felt now. Sitting beside him in his study, at the great oak table that was usually saved for his council meetings, with a lavish meal in front of them and before the great Elf Lords of the Middle Earth- she had never felt more herself.<p>

The energies of their _fea_, that had always been slightly out of sorts, as if both fighting for power against one another, now freely twined and hummed together in perfect harmony. His was still powerful and bit overwhelming, but she could feel the way that hers seemed to soothe it. Like the cool breeze of twilight after a too warm a summer's day.

Mirwen sipped at her wine and couldn't help the way that her eyes found their way to his for the millionth time during the meal, and just as they had every time she looked- his were staring right back at her. A coy smile twitched at the corner of his lips as he suddenly sent a wave of arousal through his energy and into her. She fought against the urge to cry out as her body responded instantly, a warm flush of red suffusing the neckline of her dress.

Thranduil's sharp gaze did not miss the dusting of color, and the hunger and lust that he sent to her was more than she could take. It was barely a measure of what he was feeling at the moment towards her- and the realization that at this time tomorrow he would be her husband, no longer forced to restrain what he felt towards her was enough to make him truly happy for the first time in an age.

It was the sudden smile across the table from the Lady Galadriel that finally had them both pulling back from each other to regain control. Thranduil wasn't entirely sure what to make of the wise elleth's knowing stare, but he had a feeling that she was reading his thoughts as clearly as if he had simply shouted them out into the air.

He settled back into his chair and returned his attention to the plate of roasted root vegetables that were in front of him. He had just taken a sip of his wine when the loud clearing of Elrond's throat got his attention. His eyes rose to meet those of the stoic Lord.

"I thank you for the meal that you have prepared for us this night," he began in a voice that instantly hinted that there was more on his mind than mere politeness over a prepared banquet.

Thranduil's brow rose in a touch of impatience as he drained his glass with a long swallow before interjecting. "I do not believe that we need to speak on things with such a roundabout manner. We are behind closed doors, if there is something on your mind by all means please feel free to speak it."

Elrond was quiet for a moment as he looked over at Celeborn before he began, "It is not simply the celebration of your joining that has compelled us to journey here."

He refilled his glass and topped of his betrothed's, "An ulterior motive for your journey. I must say Elrond I had suspected that much when I heard of your attendance. My father and our kingdom has never particularly been of care to the remainder of the realms. Although I would have simply preferred you sending an emissary with a written missive as opposed to throwing my kingdom in upheaval with catering to your presence if conversation is all you wished of me."

Mirwen's eyes shot wide at the rudeness of his tone, and she actually had to bite her lip to stop herself from speaking out. It was not the time or the place for her to correct her soon to be husband at his table. Thankfully it was Celeborn who cleared the tension in the air with his deep, soothing voice.

"It is not conversation alone that has brought us out of the safety of our forest to the halls of your palace. Your father's sacrifice at Dagorlad alone commands our presence here. Though what must be said, must be said."

At the mention of his father, Thranduil's body instantly tensed and Mirwen thought nothing of reaching out to gently rest her hand on his on the table. It was the calming force that she had hoped for, the crackling surge in his energy receded as he stared at Celeborn with an even, level stare.

"Well, by all means, say it, Lord Celeborn."

"Even as we enjoy a peace in our lands there is a threat that still exists to us all. Evil was allowed to endure when it should have been destroyed on the slopes of Orodruin. Due to the weakness in the hearts of men we are now forever in the shadow of its return."

"Which is why we remain in our halls," Thranduil said calmly. "My borders are protected, as our yours, we will endure behind our walls as we always have."

"We cannot be ignorant of the threats we face," Elrond spoke up. "The elven kingdoms will be the first place where darkness will attack."

"It is not ignorance to choose the well being of my people over that of the men and dwarves that are too greedy to leave well enough alone. If they summon evil, let them combat it."

Elrond frowned at his response, his brow stern he continued, "Do you think yourself and your people immune?"

"No, but I will not see them suffer again in an alliance where we are thought of as an expendable force to protect other lands."

"Orcs are massing in the north," Elrond replied. "They are flooding in with numbers that we have not seen since those hordes left Mordor, and they will soon pose threats not only to Imladris but the northern borders of the Greenwood."

"Where is this occupation?" Thranduil demanded. "My guards on the border have seen no such thing."

"Gundabad," Celeborn said sternly. "They are fortifying the ancient stronghold of the dwarves."

"That mountain is isolated, what threats of an army can possibly mass there. Orcs without a leader are nothing to concern ourselves with. They do not pose any more threat than the simple minded trolls that infest the Misty Mountains." Thranduil answered pointedly.

"I do not believe them leaderless," Galadriel's voice suddenly spoke in the room, the majestic tone instantly commanding the respect of the three elf lords at the table. Her face was stern as she continued, "There is a vast waste north of Gundabad, a calling place for the children of Glaurung the great worm. They are coming because they are called, and there is a shadow that has crept into my mind that the voice of the caller will make itself known in time."

Thranduil frowned as he stared at her, "What are we to do, Lady Galadriel. We cannot forever spend the blood of our people- I will not. I have stared into the faces of those who lay hewn on the battlefield as the marshes of that evil land rose up to leave them forever sleeping beneath the waters. I will not do it again unless the kingdom itself is under attack."

Galadriel took in his words with an impassive stare, staying silent before a long moment before speaking simply, "The forces that shape our world do so without thought to our pain. When the time comes we will all act as we know we must. Some will fight and fall, others will flee and live, and yet others still will be left to mourn and bear the weight of the losses of life and spirit. There is no way to avoid the fate that we have all been chosen. It is the price of our immortality, Thranduil Oroperion."

Mirwen sat wordlessly beside him, her head turning to meet his now downcast eyes as a small, hesitant wave of energy reaching out from his _fea _touched hers. It was something that she was completely unprepared for. He had always felt powerful and confident, almost overbearing- but that was not what she felt from him now. It was a part of the stoic king that she knew had been seen by few that now lived.

She felt pain and shame- utter anguish at the loss of his father and his people as he stood by helplessly paralyzed by fear. It was instinct alone that had her reaching back for him with as much strength as she could muster. She did not know how to carry the sadness that he held in his heart alone, but she knew that she could give him enough aid to help him.

The somber tone of the meal was unexpectedly broken when Celebrinian reached for her goblet, filling it with the cool, clear water of the forest spring instead of Dorwinian wine. Elrond smiled softly, and Mirwen could not help the feeling of joy that leapt in her chest. She did not know the elleth at all, but an elfling was a true blessing that needed no familiarity for joy.

In fact it was Celeborn who seemed the most surprised by the revelation. Mirwen smiled as the Lady Galadriel met the questioning gaze of her husband.

"You did not feel this to be something to share, my Lady wife?"

"Such surprises need to be said by our daughter, dear husband."

Celebrinian smiled as she reached out for her father's hand, "I could not be sure until this morning, _adar_. The journey had made me weary, and my thoughts were not clear. I did not realize that my _fea _was being touched by the lives of two within me."

"Two?"

The Lord of Lothlorien seemed taken completely aback by the news. Indeed it was uncommon for elves to conceive more than one elfling- though among the descendents of the half-elven to which Elrond owed his parentage, it was much more common.

Celebrinian nodded softly, "They are sons."

"It is truly a time of celebration," he said with a small nod. "The bonding of one pair and another still with sons growing."

Even Thranduil found it in his somber mood to congratulate the pair, raising his glass to them, "To the generations that are born of you hence, may they grow tall and wise and blessed."

"Our thank you," Elrond said with a nod. "And to you, may your marriage be filled days of happiness."

Mirwen drank to both toasts, feeling the unease fade from Thranduil's _fea_ as his hand remained beneath hers, the thumb lightly caressing hers.

* * *

><p>Their guests departed early, still weary from their journey and no doubt feeling the need to rest before the day of feasting and celebration that would dawn with the sun. Mirwen lingered for a moment at the doors of the study as Thranduil bid them a good night. He had no sooner closed the door than he had taken her into his arms. One hand touching her cheek and cupping her face as the other gently rested on her waist.<p>

"I do not wish to be parted tonight," he said simply.

Mirwen felt her cheeks flush under the heat of his gaze, "It is only one night, Thranduil. It is not long at all."

"It feels like an eternity," he said as his voice began to take on a husky rumble. "Longer than a life age."

She reached up to touch his face, her fingers threading into his silken blonde hair and gently caressing the shell of his ear. Watching as the hunger and desire grew in his stare, "It is only one night until I will never be parted from you again."

Thranduil pulled her close as he took her mouth with his in a deep kiss. Mirwen relaxed into the touch, opening her mouth to receive his tongue with eager anticipation and need. It was a kiss borne of the desire that had been growing between them, the beginning of a tentative bond that would endure.

He finally pulled away from her and rested his forehead on hers, "You must go now, Mirwen, or I will find myself married before the dawn."

She smiled at the teasing tone that threaded into his voice, "Then I must take my leave of you. Until tomorrow, my betrothed."

She stepped out of his embrace and touched the door, turning one last time to see him standing as tall and regally beautiful as the first day she had seen him riding out to war with his father.

"Sleep well, tomorrow I will make you my queen and my wife."

"Sleep well, Thranduil."

* * *

><p>Mirwen slowly walked through the corridors towards her parent's rooms, a strange realization filling her mind as she realized that this would be the last night that she would be with them. It had been many years of comfort under the protection of her beloved <em>adar <em>and _naneth_. They had raised her to be an elleth who has been found worthy enough to be a queen, and she felt nothing but pride that she was their daughter.

She only hoped that she would be able to give the same guidance and wisdom to her own little elfling. She wanted a prince or princess that was worthy of the title of the Greenwood. One who would represent her and Thranduil even after they had sailed to the Undying Lands, one who would have a future full of peace and prosperity.

"He will be as tall as a young tree, lithe and strong. He will draw his bow with a swiftness that he will bear from you, and he will be endowed with the strength and steadfast will of his father. He will be surefooted and proud, loyal and brave- he will stand and be counted as a friend to many."

Mirwen froze at the sound of the voice that came suddenly from her side. She turned swiftly to see the Lady Galadriel standing at the top of a small stair in an open window that let the light of the moon and the stars illuminate her as much as the divine light that emanated from her.

"My lady?" She said, as the words caught in her throat. Had she really just spoken of a son that she would bear the king? Could she see what her future would truly hold?

Galadriel smiled as she reached out her hand, silently beckoning Mirwen to climb the stairs and take her hand.

"You will bear him a son," she confirmed with a nod of her head. "And the bond between you both will be a strong one."

Mirwen did not know what to say to the great elleth before her, questions and curiosities flew through her mind, and she found that she did not want to know what her future held, wishing instead to live it with her husband and face it together. But there was one question that she did ask.

"Will our years together be happy ones?"

Galadriel paused for a moment, her blue eyes staring keenly before she spoke, "Thranduil will hold you above all others in his heart and mind, even unto the day he steps onto the shores of the Undying Lands."

She was not sure that her question had been answered, but the coy smile on the lady's face let her know that it was the only answer that she would receive this night.

"Go now and rest," Galadriel said softly. "For you are weary, and you have a long day ahead of you that will begin your journey in your marriage bond."

Mirwen nodded, "Yes, my Lady."

She turned and climbed down the stairs, taking one last look up at the Lady of Light. She had already turned her back and her eyes stared out into the night sky, her silent gaze fixed to the east.

Mirwen walked away with her wise words in his head, still unsure of what her future would hold for her, but for the first time since Thranduil had stood before her one year ago and put her betrothal ring on her finger- she felt a sense of ease.

Tonight she was simply herself- tomorrow and for the rest of her days she would become Mirwen Aradaniel, wife of Thranduil and Queen of Greenwood the Great and the Woodland Realm.


	11. Chapter 11

**AN: And here we have it! I am so pleased to pull this together for you before the end of the week. It was something that was really wonderful to write and research. I was able to find some really great information off of realelvish . net about ideas for the wedding vows. And although the custom of giving an elf stone is one of the Noldor specifically, (it was Galadriel in the book that gave Aragorn the evenstar necklace because Celebrinian had sailed) I figured that it was the sort of custom that was too cool to ignore. So you should recognize the elfstone that Thranduil is given- as well as the meaning behind three of the rings he wears. I really enjoyed giving my own meaning to the jewelry he's adorned with, because he has quite a collection.  
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**So without further ado I give you the long awaited wedding ceremony of our King of the Greenwood.**

**As always, your reviews are love. I appreciate each and every one of them...and if any of you are so inclined to answer this request- I would love to know if Mirwen has a particular look of an actress in your minds. She lives in my head in a certain way, and I am curious how you all see her.**

**Please enjoy and leave me your encouragement! XOXOX**

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><p>The morning of her wedding feast dawned as so many before. Mirwen opened her eyes to the dawn, letting the warmth of the sun and the sweet breeze slowly rouse her from her sleep. But no sooner than her hazel eyes had blinked open than the doors to her bedroom were thrown open. She sat up suddenly, alarmed at the intrusion, before her fears were instantly turned to amusement as her mother's flustered form burst in with Tithenmamiwen hot on her tail.<p>

"Time to rise my daughter," Lhindis said with a breathless voice. "There is much to do in preparation, and there is not nearly enough time to do it all.

Mirwen shook her head as Tithen placed a tray of food on the small sitting table in the corner of the room. She was famished, and quite certain that it would be a schedule today that would not allow her to eat for some time. Mirwen would give her mother many things, but permission to take away her morning meal was not one of those.

"We have plenty of time _naneth_, I would like to enjoy a nice peaceful morning tea and meal with you and Tithen. Come, let us sit."

Lhindis reluctantly agreed, and Tithen poured them all a cup of invigorating lemon balm tea as Mirwen filled her plate. She savored the piece of sweet bread and fruit jam, realizing as her young friend sat down across from her that she had not seen her very much in the past couple of days. The arrival of their guests, and her excursion into the forest to get away from her and Thranduil's argument had kept them apart.

She smiled softly at the young elleth who seemed to be daydreaming a fair bit before she spoke, "It feels like I have not seen you in an age, Tithen. What mischief have you been up to without me?"

The flush that dusted her cheeks completely contradicted the very quiet, "nothing at all," that she answered her with.

"Well that leads me to certainly believe that you are lying."

Before she could answer it was Lhindis who spoke up, "You have made an acquaintance with the head of the Galadrhim guard, have you not? I saw you speaking with him last night after the evening meal, in fact I remember seeing Orndir approaching you as well, he also seemed very interested in your conversation."

Mirwen giggled at her mother's teasing remarks as Tithen's flush suddenly rose to cover her entire face. For once the young elleth was the center of the playful words. "His name is Haldir," she said quickly. "He is the new Lord Warden of the March for the forest of Lothlorien. He was merely asking me where the archery range was, we were not talking more than that."

"I am sure Orndir supplied him with excellent directions," Mirwen replied.

Tithen huffed and tried to give off a feeling of anger, instead failing to hide her smile. "He was impetuous and jealous when he need not have been. I am a free elleth the last time that I checked, I am not bound to an ellon."

"And I am sure that you told him this."

"Oh, I most certainly did."

"How did he react?" Mirwen asked as her body instantly tingled with the memory of her and Thranduil's angry conversation in the forest only the afternoon before, and the kiss that he had given her after he humbled himself, beseeching her to use his name and never his title again.

"He kissed me," she said quietly. Her wide blue eyes darted between Mirwen and her mother as she took a deep breath and laughed nervously, "And I do not know how to feel. I have never felt...I did not know that a kiss would feel like that. I felt like my heart would break free from my chest it was beating so fast...should it feel like that?"

Mirwen smiled as she reached out to touch her hand, "I do not know much of love, but of what I have felt- I know that it is so wonderful and powerful that it must feel like that to last our long years."

"You have never been so wise, my daughter."

Aradan's voice came from her open door, and the three of them turned to look at her father. He strode in, already dressed in a fine green tunic that accentuated the dark, rich brown of his hair and eyes. He looked every bit the brave General of the Armies that he was- and yet he still looked to Mirwen like her beloved _ada_.

He walked into the room to first lean down and kiss his lady wife with an affection that showed their long bond of love, before standing up to meet the eyes of his daughter with a warm smile.

"I wanted to bid my precious little jewel one last look before I let her leave me to give her love to another."

Mirwen's eyes watered as she stood and reached out to embrace him, "You will always have my love, _adar_."

Aradan held her tightly as he leaned down to kiss the crown of her head, "And you, my daughter, I could not be more proud of the elleth that you have become, and the queen you are destined to be." He stepped away with a fondness in his eyes, "I will leave you to prepare. I had thought to visit your betrothed, as I am sure he is in need of a calm voice."

Mirwen smiled brightly at him, knowing that indeed Thranduil would no doubt be secluded in his chambers, trying to remain far away from his council and others who would no doubt steal any peace he was hoping to have in solitude.

"Tell him I am glad to give him the comfort of your company."

"I will," Aradan said with a laugh. He gave one last parting kiss to her mother before he left them to the remainder of their morning together.

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><p>Thranduil stood at the window of his study, his eyes casting out over the verdant and lush green summer forest. I was a clear day with a sweet smelling breeze, his view unencumbered all the way across the borders to the slopes of Erebor in the distance. He felt a strange combination of emotions that he could not begin to analyze, it was something that he had never felt in all his long years.<p>

He was nervous, for what it would mean to take a wife, and for what need would fall on him to give his people the heir that they needed. But he was also oddly eager, knowing that Mirwen would always be at his side from this day forward- that he would never again be alone.

His eyes fell to the velvet pillow that sat on the table behind him, and the delicate crown that would soon rest upon his queen's head. He had decided to have it fashioned in the same style of his own, though the weaving spires of the twigs did not stand as tall. It was as elegant and wild as she was, and he was truly ready to share his throne with her.

A knock on his door interrupted his thoughts and had him frowning as he looked down to his half dressed state. He was in the dark grey leggings and tall leather boots that he was wearing to the feast, though the plain linen tunic he was currently in was simply because he was not in the mood to carry about the heavy green robes quite yet.

"I am not in any mood or appropriate dress to receive anyone," he responded loudly to the door without bothering to walk over.

His response was met with silence, so it was shocking to him that the door opened a moment later to see Aradan stepping into his presence with an amused look on his face.

"I have come to keep you company until your feast begins, my Lord- unless you would prefer solitude."

Thranduil smirked as he stared at the general, "I would normally prefer solitude to company, however, you are the normal exception to this rule, my friend."

"I would hope that you have found another," Aradan said as he walked to the side table and the flask of wine that was resting, grabbing the bottle and pouring two glasses.

He handed off the glass to Thranduil as the king smiled softly, "Yes, I have, and I believe I owe you for that as well." He sipped at his wine and was quiet for a moment before he spoke, feeling the need to address and ease the mind of the ellon who had given his only daughter to a king with his blessing. "She has completely entranced me, I cannot go a moment without thinking of her. I may be the ruler of this kingdom, but she has taken command of my heart."

The normally stoic general closed the distance between them, taking the king into an embrace that was out of place for his station. Thranduil was surprised for a moment before Aradan stepped away to rest his hand on his shoulder. "I could not think of a better ellon. Mirwen is my most prized treasure, I would not have allowed her to leave me unless it was to one who deserved her."

Thranduil mirrored his gesture, his face solemn, "I would ask one last favor of you, Aradan. I have no one to invoke the blessing of Manwe on my behalf today, it would have fallen to my father to do so. In his absence, my station permits me the ability to do it myself, but I would have you say the words- if it pleased you to do so."

"I have long thought of you as a son," Aradan replied honestly. "Though I am a poor substitute for your great father. I would be honored to give your blessing."

"_De fel, mellon_." Thranduil said as he raised his glass, "Now, let us relax and enjoy this moment of calm."

* * *

><p>Mirwen had managed to keep the fluttering butterflies in her stomach in control for the most part as she bathed, the warm water and the lavender oil that permeated the air had helped to relax her. But as she stood in front of the crystal mirror as she slid on the elegant white silk slip, a passing thought made her heart race- he would see her in this tonight.<p>

She may have her mother attending to her as she dressed and prepared now...but as she _un_dressed tonight, it would be the hands of her husband that helped her remove her clothes.

The look of nervousness must have been written all over her face as she sat down for her mother to comb her hair, because it was not long before she met her stare in the mirror. "Is there something troubling you, my daughter?"

Mirwen bit her lip as her cheeks flushed, "I think that I am afraid. I do not know what to expect, or how I should behave."

"It is a feast in front of our people, no different than the meals you take each night with the council, you have nothing to fear."

Her face blushed even more, "I...I did not mean..."

"Oh!" Lhindis said with a breathless realization. "You are concerned with your consummation."

"Yes," Mirwen said quietly. "I do not know what I am supposed to do. I mean the mechanics do not escape me...I am merely unsure of how I am to know if I am...well...if I am any good."

Her mother smiled and laughed lightly, "My dear daughter, joining with your beloved is something that is of the _fea_, it will lead your body to where it must be...of course like all endeavors, practice is needed to develop an expertise of skill."

The teasing in her voice was enough to make her laugh despite her embarrassment, "Thank you for your insight, _naneth_, but we need not discuss anything where expertise is concerned. There are some things that one is not meant to know about their parents."

Lhindis winked at her as she leaned down to wrap her arms around her, whispering in her ear, "I will not trouble you with that so long as you promise to give me an elfling soon. It has been far too long since I have held a little one in swadling blankets."

Mirwen could not stop the smile as she held her mother's arms, remembering the words that the Lady Galadriel had said to her the night before about bearing a son and heir for her husband. "As soon as Eru sees fit for me to have one I will promise."

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><p>It had been the longest that she had ever spent getting herself ready in the entirety of her life. But as she stood finally dressed in the exquisite pale green dress that had been painstakingly sewn for her- she could not stop the feeling that she had.<p>

She _felt_ like a queen.

Her hair had been done simply, left loose and flowing in waves with no adornments. After all, her crown would soon rest upon her head and that would be all the decoration that she would need. She was still admiring the fine green gemstones that adorned the delicate fabric when Tithen and her mother reappeared dressed for the feast.

Her mother's dress was of the same deep emerald green of her father's tunic, and she looked every bit of elegance that Mirwen had always wanted to be when she was a youngling. Tithen's dress was a beautiful sapphire blue that made her wide eyes seem to glow when she smiled- she was a picture of grace.

"You look lovely, _mellon_," Mirwen said as her young friend's eyes watered with happy tears.

"I am so happy for you," she said with a trembling smile. "You look like a queen."

Mirwen reached out to hold her hand with a gentile squeeze when the final knock sounded on their door. She turned her head one last time to look around the apartments of her parents that had been her home for the past year. A moment of sadness swept through her that she would never again simply be a maiden free to do as she wished- but that passed quickly when she realized that she was leaving to begin her own life. She would soon be the one to nurture a family.

"Lady Mirwen," Councilor Hannor's deep voice came from behind the door as Tithen opened it to reveal the entire royal council. "We have come to escort you to your bonding ceremony."

She took a deep breath and held her head up high, reaching her hand behind her and grateful when Tithen took it without hesitation. The simple act was all the strength she needed.

"I am ready, Councilors."

* * *

><p>The entire Greenwood had gathered to watch the ceremony. Mirwen's eyes went wide as she looked through the great halls and caverns to see every arching bridge and balcony lined with her fellow Silvan elves. They smiled and sang a chorus of beautiful songs...flower petals and green leaves rained down all around them. And she could not stop the feeling of utter joy as it hummed in her <em>fea<em>.

Mirwen followed the Councilors as they flanked her, weaving through the paths until she found herself making the final climb to where Thranduil's throne was. Her heart was soaring when they finally stopped walking, parting to stand along the edge of the great circle of space and permitting her to move forward.

She looked up to first see the smile of Celebrinian and Lord Elrond, and the more reserved one of Lord Celeborn, and the knowing look of the Lady of Light. She saw her father standing beside them, staring at her and her mother with joy on his face.

And finally she saw him.

Her betrothed. Her king, dressed in his embroidered green robes, the rich colors matching that of the forest that was all around them and the leaves of his woven crown. His long while blonde hair hung in a perfect silken curtain, and as she looked at his regal features, his crystal blue eyes were focused on nothing but her.

She could feel his _fea_ as it reached out across the distance to touch hers, tangling and weaving until she could not feel where one started and the other began. It was as if they had always been like this, and she did not understand how they had come so far with little more than stolen kisses and glances.

It all went away when he reached out his hand to her. She took his hand, his elegant fingers clasping around hers as he brought her to stand before him.

"Hail to all those that have come forth on this day!" Thranduil spoke, his powerful and commanding voice echoing out through the cavers and silencing the songs, garnering instant attention.

Mirwen felt her hands tremble as he took them both and held them gently, his thumbs stroking her skin in soothing circles to calm her. He let them go as Lhindis came up to Mirwen's side, in her hand she held the elfstone broach that she had fashioned for him as the traditional wedding gift.

Her mother reached up to fasten it to at the neckline of his collar, adjusting it until it was perfectly set. Her voice was quiet, speaking only for Thranduil and Mirwen. "Take this gift as a sign of the love that I have for you. May you have more happy years than can be counted, and may your joy echo in the faces of your heirs."

She stepped back before she raised her smiling face to the masses assembled around them, "May Varda the star-kindler hear Thranduil and Mirwen as they call for their bond, and may Eru the Father of All bless them always."

Aradan stepped forward as she finished, standing in front of his teary eyed wife as he raised his voice to the crowd, "May Manwe the Lord of the winds hear Thrandul and Mirwen as they call for their bond, and may Eru the Father of All bless them always."

As his voice faded, Councilor Hannor approached with a small velvet pillow, perched on it were their rings. "It is time to return your betrothal rings to one another."

Mirwen felt somewhat foolish and unsure as she removed hers- both betrothal rings were of Thranduil's owning. They had been his parents. She watched him as he removed the one from his right index finger and placed it on his left, before taking hers and placing it on his third finger of his right hand. He reached out to take the smaller ring on the pillow, a silver one with a smooth pink gem stone, before he took her right hand and slid it onto her first finger.

Mirwen looked down at the beautiful way it sparkled and caught the light, before reaching herself to the larger ring meant for him. It was a large blue stone set in a nest of silver that was made to look like branches, the same that her mother had styled his broach after. She slid it on the same finger that he had done to her.

Thranduil took her hands again as next Councilor Gwythion stepped forwards with the pillow that her crown rested upon. He released her hands to take the delicate piece and raise it up.

"To the blessed Valar, I crown you Mirwen Aradaniel Queen of _Eryn Galen_. I bestow upon you all that it is in my station to endow, from now until the end of all days."

Mirwen's eyes fell closed as she felt the weight of the crown settling on her head. It was a strange thing that something so light to the touch could carry with it such immense meaning. She was a queen now. Her eyes fluttered open to see Thranduil staring at her with a true smile on his handsome face. The honest expression had her instantly smiling back before he suddenly reached out to take her into his arms and pull her close, his lips claiming hers in a passionate kiss.

The crowd that surrounded them broke into thunderous applause and Mirwen could not stop smiling against his lips as he finally pulled away from her. He took her hand in his and led her to the stairs of his throne. Where only the morning before they had walked those same steps in complete discord with one another- she now felt nothing but perfect contentment.

They stood side by side in front of the massive oak seat, and Mirwen could not stop the way that she laughed out with her complete joy. She took in every moment, every face of the Silvan people that cheered and sang for them, and each petal of the flowers that fell all around them.

Thranduil looked over at her as he nodded, and they both sat in unison on the wide throne as the voice of her father carried out loudly, "Hail to the King and Queen of the Woodland Realm, may your grace shine down upon us until the end of all days!"

The shout was answered by the crowd, their voices calling out praises.

"Hail, King Thranduil!"

"Hail, Queen Mirwen!"

Mirwen felt her husband squeeze her hand, his long elegant fingers twining with hers as their _fea_ mingled and surrounded them both on their shared throne. It was as if Eru himself had truly blessed the day with joy, for all of the days that she had been alive, and for all of those that had yet to come had been a gift.

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><p>Even with his normal distaste for banter and meaningless conversation, Thranduil found himself unable to feel anything that even resembled irritation as his Councilors spoke endlessly around him. He was far too immersed in a glorious indulgence of decadent food, a heady, strong vintage of Dorwinion wine, and the intoxicating presence of his queen to possibly have a single negative thought.<p>

She was smiling and laughing, greeting each and every elleth and ellon who approached the great center table that they were feasting at- and she was utterly exquisite as she did it. In her happiness she seemed to even outshine the Lady of Light herself, and as if his thoughts had been read he looked up to meet Galadriel's blue eyes to see that she was watching him with a strange smile upon her lips.

_She will love you as you love her, even unto the ends of the world and to the shores of Valinor._

Thranduil's eyes widened when he realized that the Lady's voice was in his mind as clear as if she was sitting beside him whispering in his ear. He did not like the intrusion into his thoughts, into the one part of his life that was forever private.

_I do not wish to know of my fate, my Lady...I have endured enough of this life to know that such happiness cannot last without grief. _

_I cannot tell you that you will not weep, but not all tears are ones of pain and sorrow. You have long years before you, Thranduil Oropherion; you will see the world change, and when you sail to the West you will leave with a clear mind._

He nodded simply, unsure if her words had given him a measure of peace that he was not expecting. There would be sadness in his life again, this he knew, but for tonight he had his queen by his side and a light heart. He made a small prayer to Manwe and Eru himself that he could always remember this night- that when the darkness came, he had this to pull him through.

* * *

><p>The feasting continued long into the night, and as it wore on, the sound of music and song began to fill the air of the great hall. The floor was filled with paired couples, and Mirwen smiled as she watched her parents move to the music- the look of love still upon their faces.<p>

Her eyes widened when she saw the blonde Galadrhim guard walk up to Tithen, only to see the maiden swept into the arms of Orndir and whisked to the middle of the floor- her infectious laugh ringing through as clear as a bell. She also did not miss the look of instant interest in her newly bound husband. His eyebrow arched at the pair, and she knew that when it came time for the young ellon to ask for her hand in betrothal it was going to be her duty to keep Thranduil's temper in check.

It was when their guests finally stood up and joined in the dance that Thranduil finally turned to her. His eyes were hungry, his energy completely enveloping her. She was powerless to do nothing but let it take control of everything she was feeling.

They had been bonded by blessing and prayer- but they were not truly married yet.

Thranduil turned in his chair as he reached out for her, his hand cupping the back of her neck gently, but still pulling her to him with a sense of power that let her know that he was utterly in command of her in that moment, his passion rising beyond the point of protocol and convention.

"I wish to dance, Mirwen," he said as his voice deepened with the emotion.

Her heart raced as she stared at him hypnotized, needing to take several long moments before she was able to find her voice- and when she did it was nothing more than a whisper.

"Of course, Thranduil, we should dance with our guests."

A sly grin curled the corner of his handsome mouth as he leaned in to brush his lips against her ear. He kept his voice low, his words only loud enough for her to hear, "No, you misunderstand me, my wild Silvan queen. I wish for you and I to dance-_ alone_ and away from the prying eyes of all that have stared at you all day."

Her skin instantly tingled as he nuzzled against the sensitive shell of her pointed ear, and she could not suppress the shiver that followed. She felt him smile against her as he continued, "I want to make you my wife, Mirwen. I wish to join with you now. I cannot wait any longer."

She could feel herself trembling his arms, the feeling of uncertainty combining with her want and need to create an all consuming wave of emotion that she had never known before. It was a calling that she could not ignore or deny.

"Our guests..." She managed to speak in a gasp.

"Our guests will enjoy a night of feasting and dancing in celebration in halls that have long been too somber." He pulled his head away just far enough to stare into her eyes, "But you and I, my queen, we will enjoy our own celebration. One that I do not anticipate seeing the end of for _many_ days."

He stood and gently pulled her up with him, his hand sliding from her neck down the exposed line of her shoulder, the long fingers trailing down until he took her hand. Without another word he turned and walked them out of the hall, skillfully avoiding the corners where his council was still debating and discussing politics. There was not a single soul that saw them as they disappeared into the night darkened halls of the palace.

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><p><em>Elvish Vocabulary-<em>

_De fel- Thank you_


End file.
